The Rabbit and the Wolfe: Crimson Legacy
by Aggron Prime
Summary: Sequel to The Rabbit and the Wolfe. The galaxy has dodged another bullet. The Covenant assassin, Ekan 'Satinee lies dead, his plans to finish the war crushed under the boots of a purple Spartan. But he did not work alone. Rogue elements inside the UNSC have been waiting 30 years to get back at the government that had caused them so much pain. They will wait no longer.
1. One in the Chamber

**The Rabbit and the Wolfe**

Welcome to the second installment of the Rabbit and the Wolfe series! For those who have not read the first part, I **HIGHLY** suggest you do, or most of this story won't make any sense Now that that is out of the way, those who have read the first part, you know what to expect in termed of M-rated content. For those who don't, my stories contain blood, gore, and the occasional sex scene, but not overtly so. If this isn't your cup of tea, feel free to look for another story that may strike your interest. If your still here, great! I hope you enjoy the second installment of the Rabbit and the Wolfe series and don't forget to follow, favorite and review!

 **01: One in the Chamber**

 **November 18, 2561**

 **Castiglione, Escala III**

 **1100 hours**

Three years. Three years since her last mission. Three years since she last took fire. Three years since she joined the civilian population. It was not the 36 months without firing a rifle. It was the 1095 days without her joy. Her second half. Her teammate, lover and friend. Kelly-087, her bunny. It took some careful flirtation, a collapsing Forerunner ruin, a small Sangheili girl and a drunken kiss to propel their relationship from squad mates to something much deeper and vastly more beautiful than either of them could have imagined. But a Covenant assassin from her family's past nearly ripped that dream apart. Though Sandra managed to kill him and end his stranglehold on her family, she was forced to 'retire' from the UNSC.

An angry chirp from her console roused her from her sleep. Tying her platinum blonde locks in a simple ponytail behind her, she answered the call.

"Hello?" Sandra asked wearily, not entirely awake.

"Wow Sandy, you look terrible. Didn't sleep well?" Bridget's concern was enough for the Spartan to give a slow nod, sipping some lukewarm coffee that she had left on the desk an hour or two before.

"Work has been hell these past few days. I have only had a few hours of sleep this past week." Bridget pouted on the other end of the line, giving her childhood friend a fierce glare.

"You shouldn't push yourself like this, Sandy. It isn't healthy. Let me talk to your CO, I'll set him straight." The comment dug at the empty hole in her chest, but she soldiered on.

"I can't tell you that, B. When I was reassigned, I-" she stopped short as Bridget held up one of her hands. Bridget ran a hand through her raven locks, sighing in defeat.

"I know, classified and all that stuff. I get it, I really do," Sandra was glad she didn't have to explain anything else. It hurt more and more each time she had to lie to them, but she didn't want them to worry unnecessarily. "Ok, new topic! How's Kelly?" Sandra smiled warmly at the mention of her lover's name.

"She's good…I think. We talk a lot, but not being able to see each other has been hard on both of us. But she has her job to do, as do I."

"And she couldn't come with you?" Sandra hated to be reminded of the fact she was still alone. Being without her bunny for so long was starting to make her petty. And jealous. Not to mention the lack of intimate contact was really starting to grate on her already frayed nerves.

"No. Her place is with her unit. Plus, it was a sudden reassignment. No time to do anything but back up and bolt. I took Amber with me because it would be far away from front-line combat. Kelly agreed that it would be for the best."

Bridget perked up at the mention of Sandra's daughter. She had fallen in love with the little one the moment she laid eyes on her. Though she may not be what some may consider a 'normal' child, with her light gray leathery skin, golden eyes and hinged mandibles, Nonetheless, Amber was adorable, highly curious and extremely funny in a sort of naïve, childlike way that made her irresistible.

"Oh? Is she there now?"

"No. she is still at daycare." Bridget looked off momentarily to the side in thought.

"Is she still being bullied?" Sandra burst out laughing. When Sandra had first dropped her daughter off at a local daycare, some of the other children picked on her for being 'different' 'alien' and a 'freak'. When Sandra came to pick Amber up that day, she was in tears. A quick talk with the owner and a few friends had quickly solved that problem. No one messed with her daughter. No one.

"Naw. It's amazing what a few calls can do. Little shit won't be messing with Amber anymore." Bridget couldn't stop the shiver that ran down her spine. She often forgot how ruthless the woman could become when someone threatened her family. _Must be that Spartan training._

"Shouldn't you pick her up? Don't you usually leave around this time?" Sandra looked at the clock by her bed. 1115…she was late.

"Shit! I'm late! Gotta go! Call you later, then I'll see if I can get a hold of Kelly! Love ya, bye!" Sandra ended the call, cutting Bridget off mid-laugh. Sandra slipped into a jacket, nearly falling down the stairs as she fumbled with the armholes. Forcing herself to slow down, Sandra grabbed her keys off the counter of her small apartment kitchen and shoved her M6 into the small of her back. Throwing open the front door, she rushed down the steps as fast as she dared, climbing into the open seat of her warthog. She threw it into reverse, nearly shredding her neighbors flower garden as she pulled into the street. Merging with traffic, she took a few deep breaths and called the daycare.

"Hello, how may I help you?" A sweet voice answered after a few rings.

"Hey it's Sandra. Sorry, I'm running a few minutes late."

"Oh, don't worry about it! Amber is some of the best company I've ever had! She's regaling me with her time aboard a starship. Quite the tale!"

"I'll be there as fast as I can."

"Sandra, you drive safely, you hear? Take your time. We'll be here when you arrive." Sandra let out a short sigh of relief, nodding, even though the woman on the other end couldn't see her.

"I will. Be there soon." With that she ended the call to focus driving. The streets, while not necessarily congested, were still crowded enough to slow her commute to a crawl. _There sure are a lot of police out today. More than normal. Much more._ Red flags were going off in the back of her mind. Something was wrong. Lately, there had been more Insurrectionist activity as the overshadowing war with the Covenant was less and less of a concern each passing day. Bombing, kidnapping and murder were daily occurrences on Escala III, a topic no one wanted to talk about for fear that they would be next. Sandra could feel something big was coming, but didn't have any concrete proof.

Sandra pulled into a parking spot in front of the day care, warily eyeing the surrounding area for threats. The sun shone brilliantly, even behind her tinted sunglasses, and the warm breeze washed gently over her skin. Roses swayed in time to a beat only Mother Nature could hear. Everything was perfect. Perfect was never in a Spartan's vocabulary; things _always_ tended to go south when it seemed you were in the clear. A small rustic building, with brickwork supporting a flat roof. Not much to look at, but Sandra wasn't here for the simple architecture.

"Mother!" The happy cry put Sandra's superstitions on the back burner. Amber ran through the parking lot, quickly being wrapped up in a loving hug. Her light grey skin stuck out amongst the blue sky and lush grass, but her golden eyes, always filled with happiness, love, and an unexhaustive curiosity, gleamed in the late morning sun.

"How are you, sweetie?" Sandra still had to crouch to hug her daughter, but not as much as she did three years ago. The young saurian had grown almost a foot and a half, and although still on the small side, her mother's commitment to physical fitness had bleed to her daughter, bestowing the alien with an above average endurance and strength. Well, above average for a six-year-old Sangheili female.

"I learned so much today!" Sandra kissed her lovingly on the head as Amber nuzzled into the crook of her neck, her favorite form of affection. A shout caught Sandra's attention, and she looked up to see a young woman waving a toy above her head as she crossed the hot asphalt.

"Hey, don't forget her t-" The young woman's smile was still etched upon her face as her head exploded, spraying bone, blood, and tissue clear across the lot. The force was enough to twist her body in a full circle before it crumpled to the ground. A second later, the _crack_ of a sniper gave the Spartan her answer. Sandra pulled the two of them to the ground on instinct, as Amber's scream of terror fell on deaf ears. She had just pulled the M6 from its resting place when the pavement erupted as bullets tore into it. Scrambling to cover, Sandra hit the warthog frame with enough force to shake the vehicle.

 _Fuck! What the hell is going on?!_ The warthog shuddered violently as bullets pummeled its heavy armor. Peeking around the wheel, she could see a small group, maybe five or six, unmarked assailants with a variety of different rifles, but she couldn't spot the sniper. A whimper drew her head around. Amber was crying and shaking violently as she stared at the dead eyes of the woman who had taught her hours before. She had no choice: She had to get Amber out of here. She had to get her to safety.

"Amber, Amber can you hear me?!" Sandra yelled, slapping a hand on her daughter's shoulder. Amber flinched and shied away, horror showing clearly in her misty eyes. Ignoring the growing threat, she pulled Amber close.

"Sorry, sweetie, sorry. I need you to focus right now. Can you do that, for your mom?" A few moments of silence, then a quick nod. Sandra could hear the approaching boots, they were slow, cautious in their movements, but moving steadily in their direction. Without any armor, a head-on charge would be suicidal. She had to break them apart. For once, she was glad for the additional armor the researchers at ONI had slapped onto her baby. A plan quickly formed in her head. Rash and stupid, yes. But if it worked, it would buy them some time. Hopefully, enough to get off-world. She didn't know how widespread this attack could be but Sandra was unwilling to subject her daughter to such danger.

"Ok. I'm going to lift you into the car. I need you to keep your head down while I deal with the bad guys. Can you do that?" Amber nodded again, confused and terrified, but determined not to let her mother down. Sandra took a deep breath, and hoped whatever gods up there were listening. _Here we go._ Scooping her little saurian up in one arm, she practically threw her into the seat, glass cracking as rounds pounded the front end. Dropping below the undercarriage, her M6 roared in anger, catching on of them in the thigh, then through the head before a scream even left their lips. She rolled to escape the returning fire, bullets shredding the air where she laid a moment before. _Gotta move!_ Spotting a car in the middle of the parking lot, she sprinted towards it, laying down fire as she went. A scream let her know she had hit at least one of them. Diving behind the vehicle, she grimaced as a lance of pain ripped through her side.

"Fuck." She hissed as her hands came up bloody.

"Forget the fucking squid. Kill the Spartan first. She's the real threat." _Spartan?! How the hell do they know that?!_ A set of boots pounded across the empty lot, directly for her. Even in spite of the dire situation, she couldn't help but smile. _Someone's eager. Fucking moron._ She emptied five rounds into the soldier as he tried to vault the car. She ejected the spent magazine as his bloody body slid off the roof. Taking the fallen trooper's battle rifle, she pulled one extra mag from his pockets. Another hail of gunfire blew out the crippled vehicle's windows. The curses of a jammed weapon brought the stolen BR to bear, blood spraying out the back of their skulls as the 3-round-bursts punched through two helmets.

"Fucking hell!" One shouted, startled, as her companion dropped dead. She pummeled the car relentlessly as the DMR rocked back and forth. Sandra dropped back into cover, but not before a stray bullet ripped through her abdomen. The rifle clattered to the ground as she clutched her stomach, clenching her teeth in pain. She could still feel the bullet inside her, making every move excruciating. She tried to breathe, but each breath came out short and ragged. She knew it was bad, but Amber was counting on her. The soft _chink_ of a pin being pulled brought the world rushing back.

"Fuck this bitch! I'm done!" A small part of Sandra's mind wondered why they hadn't used grenades earlier, but it was quashed along with the rest of her pain as she scrambled for her pistol. She emptied a full clip into the focus of her imminent demise. Blood and shards of bone sprayed in every direction as the oversized pistol tore into the enemy. He dropped the M9 as the last bullet tore his throat open. Then her world spun as she flew through the air.

Faint sounds trickled through the ringing in her ears. She could taste blood in her mouth as her eyes struggled to open. She could feel someone shaking her, but her rattled brain couldn't figure out why.

"…"

"…"

"M…

"Mot…"

 _Bridget. Daycare. Late. Crushed flowers. Amber. Attacked._ As if the dam broke, her memories came rushing back to her. Coughing up red-tinted saliva, she tried to move, only to be rewarded with excruciating pain.

"Ahh! Fucking hell, that hurts!"

"Mother! I thought…that you…" Amber burst into tears beside her, relieved.

"Help me up, sweetie."

"Your hurt!" Sandra rolled her eyes at her daughter.

"No shit. Sorry, you didn't hear that. Never tell mommy." A weak smile graced her dirty face as her daughter rapidly shook her head. "We have to leave. There will be more. Help me to the car." Tears fell from her eyes as she was roughly pulled to her feet.

"God damn it! Shit!" A ragged scream left her abused lungs as she collapsed, breathing heavily. Using the mangled remains of the car, she pulled herself to her feet as Amber supported some of her weight. Both of their clothes were soaked in her blood. The once-smooth parking lot looked like a warzone: bullets holes and gore pot marked much of its surface, a mass of indistinguishable flesh lay near the detonation site. Sandra covered Amber's eyes, trying to protect her from the horrors she had become all too familiar with. They would need to talk about what happened here, if she could manage to not bleed out in the meantime. Dropping the bloody M6 onto the floorboard of the warthog, the wounded Spartan rummaged for the first aid kit.

"Look away, Amber." Golden, teary eyes held her own for a moment before they looked down at the pistol smeared with her mother's blood.

Tears poured from her eyes as she fished for the spent bullet inside her abdomen. Almost passing out, she pulled the offending object from her body and tossed it on the pavement in disgust. Shoving the biofoam bottle into her wounds, Sandra patched herself up the best she could. Pulling out of the daycare, she could hear faint sounds of battle echo between the buildings. Whatever was going on, it involved more than just her. It was time to cash in on a favor.

 **UNSC** _ **Infinity**_

 **23 Librae System**

 **1600 hours**

Kelly stared vaguely at the glowing blue letters, the words 'WAITING TO ESTABLISH CONNECTION' had lost any effect on her long ago. Now, the words were but a reminder of how her relationship with Sandra had fundamentally changed. She had not embraced her pup for three years. Heard her laugh. Ignore her shameless flirting. See her smile light up a room. If she were to be honest with herself, her days had become lonely and monotonous without her angel to guide her. _Was this what my life was like before?_ She hated how dreary her days had become. For the third time that day, Kelly wanted something to go wrong, just so she would have something to do.

Her mouth twitched downward as the words continued to hover before her eyes, mocking her. It was not like Sandra had never missed a call. Sometimes, it would be a few days before either of them could contact each other, either because Kelly was on-mission, Sandra had work that needed her full attention, or a plethora of other reasons that kept them apart. Oftentimes, Kelly's call would connect to reveal her sleeping blonde with a grey mass passed out on her lap. Teasing would ensue, filling her with a sense of happiness. Until Sandra one-upped her with a risqué suggestion or comment that set her cheeks on fire and filling the bunkroom with her lover's sweet laughter.

"Staring won't help." Fred called out from the opposite side of the room. Kelly tore her eyes from the screen to glare at her brother, who held up his hands in defense. He shot a glance to their resident sniper, Linda, who gave a slight shrug and resumed tuning her sniper rifle. As much as she wanted to hit him upside the head, he had a valid point. She was quite weary from their last mission and had not accumulated any sleep for the last day and a half. Kelly could wait a few more hours. Muted shuffling behind her let her know Fred and Linda were leaving.

"CQC training with Chief." Linda said, leaving the unasked invitation in the air.

"Negative. Fred needs someone he can actually keep with." Fred's snort could be easily heard in the small room. The two Spartans exchanged glances but said nothing more, leaving Blue Team's scout to stare blankly at the monitor before her. Not ten minutes later, Kelly's head hit the table, not even her augmentations enough to keep her awake.

A gentle shake roused Kelly from her slumber. Her hand instinctively reached for a weapon, but a strong, understanding voice caused her pause.

"Woah, easy there, ma'am. I just came to wake you. The captain wanted Blue Team on the bridge." Kelly shot a glance to the ceiling, as if asking the AI to confirm his story.

"I can attest that my method would have been much louder." Roland spoke, his amused voice seemingly coming from out of thin air. Ignoring the AI, Kelly noticed the name stenciled onto his armor: _S. Starr_. She had a faint inclination that she had heard the name once before, but she couldn't recall. It wasn't important at the moment. She was needed on the bridge. Giving the ANUBIS-variant Spartan a short nod, she followed him out. The two of them made it to the nearest elevator, the only passengers inhabiting the small cube. The first few minutes passed by in silence, but Kelly started to notice the occasional turn of his head in her direction. Something was obviously on the man's mind, but she wasn't about to open up a conversation.

"Ma'am?" The Spartan finally asked. Kelly twisted her head slightly, an inclination she was listening. Unused to speaking with a Spartan-II, a few seconds of awkward silence passed before he realized his mistake and continued.

"Do you know a Spartan Wolfe?" Kelly froze, caught off guard. Why the sudden question? What was he after? She turned to face him, crossing her arms defensively, her sapphire eyes boring into his opaque faceplate.

"I do." She responded, protectiveness creeping naturally into her tone. She knew it was there, just didn't bother to stop it. Sandra was _hers,_ after all. Her personality would never allow her to scream it from the rooftops, but she loved her and wouldn't let _anything_ come between them.

"How is she doing?" Kelly didn't answer. The blue Spartan nodded his head repeatedly, as if answering a question in his head.

"I understand if you don't want to talk about it. Just know I won't tell anyone. I just was curious where she went, she just dropped off the grid." Kelly raised a brow at his statement. _Won't tell anyone what?_

He leaned over slightly, speaking in a whisper her ears strained to pick up. "Both of your girls are quite beautiful. I met Sandra on a ride to Earth. She pointed you out to me. I've got your back." Kelly blinked a few times as he straightened up. Her mouth turned up at the ends, the beginning of a smile. She glanced at the screen to see they were rapidly nearing their destination. She decided he deserved to know the truth, well, at least some of it.

"She's…good. Sudden redeployment." Spartan Starr knew there was more to the story, but decided not to press as the lift doors opened into the bridge corridor. There would be time for questions later.

"I believe you know your way around. I'll leave you to it, ma'am." Kelly gave him a brisk nod before the doors closed, leaving her alone in the hall of titanium. With nothing else to do, she made her way down the metal deck, following the brightly lit signs directing her to the bridge. The doors opened with a hiss, alerting anyone inside to her imminent presence. Lasky, Palmer, and the rest of Blue Team were crowded around a holotable, evidently awaiting her arrival.

"Now we can begin." Lasky said earnestly. His face was unreadable, but by the way his knuckles curled around the rail, he was holding back a lot of anger.

"We have just received word that an outer colony has been hit. A massive attack came out of nowhere. Fighting all over the surface. Massive civilian casualties. Then the planet went dark. Aura and Roland surmise that they took out coms."

"Covenant?" Linda asked.

"No. Seems our Insurrectionist friends have put aside our differences long enough." Kelly felt a chill run down her spine. She didn't even need to glance at the others to understand what they were feeling: anger, dread, sorrow, disgust and just a hint of fear. None of them had ever liked fighting humans, finding it chilling. Like every life they snuffed out took a bit of their humanity with it. But the mission came first. Each and every one of them would do what they had to do to protect humanity. But that doesn't mean they had to like it.

"-nough Roland! He needs to know." Kelly looked up from her hands as the Knight's silky steel voice sliced into the quiet that had covered the room.

"I need to know what, Aura?" Lasky answered in an even tone, used to the Forerunner's interruptions by now. She seemed to ignore people's privacy when she felt it was important.

Roland huffed, frustrated, as she continued. "We discovered a friendly craft drifting in space. A Condor I believe you Reclaimers call them, its FTL drive warped beyond repair. We scanned the craft for survivors…

"But?" Lasky filled in, dreading the answer.

"There were only two," Roland continued. "And one is in desperate need of medical attention." Lasky swallowed heavily.

"How bad?"

"Dead in an hour, two tops." The AI responded worriedly.

"Then what are you waiting for?"

"EVA team already deployed, sir." Lasky let a relieved sigh leave through his nose. He looked up to Blue Team, who had been listening intently.

"Blue Team, get down to that bird. Offer any assistance you can." The Spartans exchanged salutes and left quickly, making their way to the nearest lift. Palmer placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Relax, Tom. You'll make yourself sick with all this worrying."

"Would you take care of me if I did?" Palmer raised a brow at his forwardness, a calm smile on her face.

"I sure would. Throw you out the nearest air lock. Solves my problem right there." They shared a chuckle before returning to the massive amount of paperwork calling their attention.

* * *

Kelly hefted a battle rifle at the crumpled remains of the Condor. Essentially a Pelican with a slipspace drive, the bird had seen better days. Chipped paint mixed with the mural of patches and rust, it was a wonder how the craft even made it this far. The tail had been melted so bad, she couldn't even point out the thrusters in the mess of metallic substance. As the rescue workers cut through the remains of the gangplank, fresh bullet holes and scorch marks stood out like a lime in a pile of lemons.

"Left wing." She pointed out, drawing her teammates' attention to the newer wounds. The rounds had apparently punched through the fragile armor of the bird, disabling its ability to provide thrust. She surmised the other boosters had been enough to flee, otherwise they would be looking at a pile of scrap, not an intact dropship.

"From the colony?" Fred wondered out loud.

"Possibly. Not enough intel." Linda responded, idlily fiddling with the SMG in her hands. A loud _thud_ echoed around the hangar, alerting the Spartans that the rescue crew had finished up, allowing them to move up, in case there were any hostiles on board. The Master Chief signaled to move forward. The four crept slowly towards the gangplank. Whatever was inside had the element of surprise, the crew bay was pitch black. A shrill, horrified scream pierced the hangar, startling everyone. A grey and red blur flew out of the bay, straight for her. _Oh my god._ It was Amber, someone's blood drenching her clothes, like she had been swimming in it. Her tear-stained cheeks and reddened eyes were a clear sign she had been crying for a long time. Taken back by her daughter's appearance, she almost allowed Blue Team to put a round through her alien skull.

"Friendly!" She bellowed, pushing the horrifying images away as she dropped her weapon. Linda pointed her sniper down as the blur slammed into Kelly, who grunted at the impact. Amber fiercely nuzzled into Kelly's chest, almost painfully so. But at that moment she didn't care. She had her daughter back, at least for now. But something was missing from this reunion, or rather some _one_. Cradling her daughter's smooth, leather-like skin she looked down into those terrified, happy golden orbs.

"Where's Sandra? Where's your mother?" Amber's eyes widened in realization. With a shaky, bloody finger, she pointed back to into the crew bay, fresh tears staining her face. _No._ Kelly moved as if on autopilot, she passed Amber a waiting corpsman and snatched her battle rifle from the floor, sprinting into the dark bay, the rest of Blue Team not far behind. Her foot stepped on something slick, sending her sliding across the crew deck. She tried to block out the soft _squish_ as the others entered behind her. Kelly's blood froze solid as John's helmet lights illuminated the cabin.

Sandra lay on her back as her chest slowly rose and fell, her lungs struggling desperately to continue supplying air. Blood dripped from the walls to the floor, coating the fading metal in an angry red pool, too much to have come from one person. Her spent M6 lay beside the blonde's head, gleaming defiantly in the vibrant light. Dried blood and puss caked older wounds, remnants of biofoam still lingered around the edges. A serious of blackish-purple welts covered most of her face, marring its beauty. A deep gash on her forehead tinged her golden hair an unnatural pink, soiled with the pooling blood on the floor. _No, no, no, no, no. NO!_

Kelly was at her side in an instant. The blood soaked her clothes, but she didn't care. All that mattered was Sandra. To save her pup's life. It took only a glance to see where the major problems were. The gash on her head and the hole in her stomach had to be patched before she could be moved for proper medical treatment. Shoving her emotions aside, she directed Fred to focus on her stomach as Linda saw to Sandra's head. Kelly took it upon herself to keep her patient calm and lucid as her family worked on saving her pup's life.

A wet coughing brought the scout's attention from Fredrick's deft hands nimbly applying a canister of biofoam to Blue 5's belly. Hazy eyes shot franticly around the bird, looking for something.

"Amber? Amber, where are you?!" Sandra called weakly.

"She's safe. And so are you." Kelly responded tenderly, wiping a trail of blood from the woman's mouth.

"They…t-they came out of n-nowhere." Kelly shushed her, there would be time for explanations later, after she came out of surgery. "Sucks I have to get shot in order for you to fawn over me." _Oh, Sandra you don't have to do anything. I'll always love you_. Kelly continued to rub Sandra's temples lovingly, till a chuckle cause her to grimace.

"Stop laughing. Your making this more difficult than it needs to be." Linda said, slightly irritated.

"You're just jealous, Linda,"

"Would you like a knife instead of biofoam?" Linda retorted in a voice that made one seriously question if the sniper was serious.

Fred snorted and Sandra stuck her tongue out at the red-head. "Yep. Totally jealous." The Master Chief returned with a two corpsman a few seconds later, who moved her to a stretcher with only a nonstop stream of curses from the ex-Spartan. Kelly hadn't even see him leave, not surprising, all things considered. Kelly marched slowly out of the Condor, body moving on its own. Her mind was frozen, the chilling image of Sandra lying in a pool of her own blood was etched upon her mind.

"Ma'am?" A voice called to her awkwardly. Kelly turned to find one of the corpsman holding a fidgeting Amber in his arms, confusion plastered across his face. Wordlessly, she took the young Sangheili off the medic's hands and cradled her warm, little frame in her arms.

"Mother said we would find you mommy." Her voice wavering as she nuzzled into the veteran's strong frame. Relief flooded her veins, melting some of the ice that surrounded her still-hypothermic heart. She felt that she could not perform until she received word that Sandra would recover. This inhibition posed a variety of problems, all which she could address later. For now, Amber was her top priority.

"Shhh. It's alright. Your safe now." She cooed, trying to calm the shaking saurian in her arms. It was traumatic, yes, but she had become accustomed to such violence over the years. Amber had no such opportunity; it was all still so raw and terrifying for her.

"Is m-mother g-going to be ok?" Amber asked, fresh tears spilling from her eyes. Kelly tightened her hold as fear gripped her fragile heart. Kelly wanted to assure Amber that everything would be alright; that Sandra would be fine. But she didn't want to lie. Though her talks with Sandra, she found that her lover had been teaching Amber about the merits of truth. Lying to her now would just ruin all the hard work Sandra had put into raising their daughter. But she was scared. That if she said such words, they would become truth. But she had to push on. For Amber. For Sandra.

"There was a lot of blood. But…Sandra, our little pup, is strong. She'll pull through. I'm sure of it. We have to stay strong for her, alright?" Amber wiped a few tears away from her face, smiling up at her parent.

"Alright, mommy. We will be there when she stops sleeping." Kelly beamed a smile at her, kissing the smooth skin on the top of her head. Kelly looked up to see Linda giving her an odd look. She signaled the sniper over with a slight jerk of her head.

"Is this…your child?" Linda asked, pulling her fingers away from her pistol when Kelly glared icily at her. Amber pulled her head from her parent's chest, realizing the conversation was about her. Her eyes lit up at the sight of Linda. She pointed a finger at the sniper, a joyful smile on her face.

"Look mommy! Its Aunty Chipmunk!" She squealed, excited. Linda stopped mid-stride, surprise and disbelief evident on her normally stony façade. Kelly couldn't keep the smirk off her face as she questioned the little saurian.

"Where did you hear that?" Linda glared at her as Kelly couldn't repress the smile in her voice.

"Mother told me!" Linda raised a brow in question and Kelly repressed an eye roll. _Really Sandra!? Here we go…_ "Ya, ya! Mom said she eats so much she has to store all da food in her cheeks. Muver also said she needed to lose lots of pounds!" Amber smiled at Linda, pleased to meet the red-head. The sniper was another story, however.

"Your child is certainly…vocal." Linda ground out between clenched teeth. "It would be a shame…" Linda pulled out her M6 and racked it loudly, sending a clear message. Kelly narrowed her eyes above the clueless Amber.

"You wouldn't make it to the door." She growled back, somewhat serious. Linda snorted disbelievingly, but holstered her sidearm anyway. Kelly watched her long enough to make sure she wouldn't make a mad dash to the infirmary.

"I'm all yucky, mommy." Kelly had to agree. Their clothes had been soaked in blood, which had dried, turning the flexible cloth into a stiff shell. A shower and change of clothes were in order. Maybe even torch their ruined ones. With the rescue team tearing into the inoperable bird, there was nothing left for Blue Team to do. Shifting Amber in to a better position, she left the hangar, headed towards her quarters for a warm shower and a fresh change of clothing. Lasky wouldn't need her for a while, at least until Sandra was stable and awake. She had been separated from her little angel for too long. This would be a perfect opportunity to make up for lost time.

 **Come Back Next Time!**

How was that for the first chapter? I didn't put dates in the first part because it was somewhat intertwined with the story of Halo 5. Now that we have moved out of canon territory (at least further away), I will now have dates and times to illustrate the passage of time and sequence of events. What do you think of the events so far? There is _so much more_ to come! Part II has just begun! Old characters will return and new ones will come into the story. I am so excited for the next installment of the Rabbit and the Wolfe series and I can't wait to hear your reactions. Don't forget to favorite, follow and review! Hope you New Year celebrations were fun and more importantly, safe. Happy 2017 and I hope this year is a good year for you all!


	2. Roots of Revolution

**The Rabbit and the Wolfe**

Hoped you all enjoyed chapter 1 of RW:CL! I know I enjoyed writing it! Sorry this chapter is not as long as you may be used to, but I didn't want to drag out the word count with useless scenes that might bore you. Sorry as well if this chapter isn't up to par with what I usually produce, I am just trying to set things up for the next few chapters. We will be on Imbur for a while. Let's get on to the chapter. Don't forget to favorite, follow and review!

 **02: Roots of Revolution**

 **November 22, 2561**

 **UNSC** _ **Infinity**_

 **23 Librae System**

 **0230 hours**

Green eyes opened slowly, flickering sleepily in the darkened room. She attempted to sit up, only to be brought back down by an acute pain in her stomach. She groaned as her body fought against every movement she made. Her muscles were stiff as boards, her skin tingled, remembering the objects being unjustly thrust into the nerves and tissues. Sandra huffed, annoyed at her body's lack of flexibility.

"You know, you complained a lot less when you were unconscious." A voice called from the corner, frustrated. But Sandra could hear the relief behind the words. Sandra smiled as she recognized the doctor's voice.

"Ya, well sex is quite difficult when you aren't lucid. Believe me, I've tried." She could almost _feel_ the glare from across the room.

"Not on _my_ beds you haven't"

"Don't be so sure." Sandra chuckled to herself as the other woman remained silent, opting to glare instead. The room was quiet for a few moments before the doctor spoke once again.

"It wasn't the same without you." Sandra's smile faded a little as she took in the meaning of the woman's words.

"Sorry. I didn't really have a choice. Not sure if I still do, Bridget."

"As long as you are under my care you will _not_ be removed from this ship." Dr. Cassidy replied adamantly. Sandra shrugged noncommittally.

"Don't shrug those shoulders at me, Spartan." _Damn, that woman is freakily observant._ Sandra was starting to feel uncomfortable bringing up old wounds, so she switched topics.

"H-how is she?" Sandra asked shakily, afraid of the answer.

"Physically, Amber is fine, only a few minor cuts and bruises, which will heal in time. I'm no child psychologist, so I will leave her care up to you. But I'm guessing that's not who you were asking about." Sandra's silence spoke volumes. Dr. Cassidy made her way over to the recovering Spartan, sitting down beside her bed.

"She'll deny it if you ask her, but Kelly was really worried about you." Bridget placed a hand over hers. "She was by your side whenever she was off duty. Brought Amber along a few times as well. That woman hasn't been the same since you were discharged." Sandra looked away, guilt flooding her. "Hey, in the few days you've been here, even unconscious, has lifted her spirits more than any victory ever could." The blonde perked up at the length of time she'd been out.

"How many days was I out?"

"Three, give or take a few hours." Came Bridget's practiced response. Sandra glanced about the room, unable to spot another body with her improved vision.

"She's waiting outside the room. I'll give you two some alone time." It still amazed Sandra how perceptive and intuitive the teal-eyed doctor could be. "Oh, and Sandra?"

"Ya, ya. I get it. Keep the screaming down." Sandra responded playfully. Bridget shook her head, muttering something about 'stubborn Spartans' and left, the door closing with a quiet hiss behind her. Looking up, there was someone else she wanted to say hello to.

"Hello Roland." She whispered.

" _If anyone asks, you were asleep the whole night."_ The AI responded, mildly annoyed, but his voice carried a hint of amusement. " _It's good to see you again, Spartan Wolfe."_

"Likewise, Roland." She broke her conversation with the ceiling as the door opened again, light flooding in from the hallway. She squinted at the sharp, artificial illumination, wishing unkind things on whoever installed them. Kelly entered tentatively, pausing just a few feet out of her lover's reach.

"I don't bite." Sandra paused, as if rethinking her previous statement. "Well, _you_ I might." Kelly's neutral look never faded, even in the face of Sandra's wolfish grin. Sandra's grin faltered as Kelly marched over, her sapphire eyes as sharp as ice. "Heh, uh, am I in trouble?" She squeaked out, swallowing hard at her lover's level glare. The pillow offered little means of retreat as she sunk further into it, eager to escape the chilling blizzard that was sure to come her way. She was more than a little surprised as Kelly captured her lips in a passionate kiss, pushing three years of pent up emotions into the one action.

When she could breathe again, Sandra found those ocean blue eyes. They had lost all their anger, being replaced with only a deep, resounding affection, devotion and happiness. Kelly was smiling, the small and soft, but nonetheless warm, toothless grin that she seemed to save only for her little pup. A glimpse of the woman behind the armor. Sandra saw her scout's mouth moving, but couldn't make out a single word.

"What?" Sandra asked, clueless.

"Not unless you don't reciprocate." Sandra didn't hesitate. Wrapping her arms around the brunette's neck as fast as her body would allow, she claimed the woman's lips with as much ferocity and passion she could muster. Kelly was _sorely_ tempted to plunge her tongue down her pup's throat, but held back, figuring there would be time for that later. Sandra thought otherwise, engaging their oral muscles in a fight for dominance. A single strand of saliva kept them connected as their lungs screamed for air. Kelly blinked dumbly, feeling her face heat up as Sandra giggled unabashedly at her.

"How was that?" Kelly could only nod, swallowing the lump building in the back of her throat. Just like her to up-stage the veteran scout. A heavy sigh escaped the ex-Spartan, followed by a groan of pain as she rolled away, lifting the sheets behind her.

"I don't open my bed to just _anyone_ , ma'am." She announced coyly, smiling at the slight frown that was surely plastered on the woman's face. Why she got such joy from eliciting a rise out of her partner was a mystery to her. _Never stopped me before._ She relaxed as Kelly eased into the bed beside her, encircling them in a cocoon of warmth.

"Don't think I won't boot your ass out of here if those frigid ice blocks you have as feet even _brush_ me." Her smile grew even brighter as Kelly cursed under her breath. Sandra's threat disappeared into the silence of the ward, the hum of the engines providing a relaxing atmosphere. It's amazing how nice everything seemed when people aren't shooting at you.

"Linda wants you dead." Kelly said evenly, her breath tickling the blonde's neck.

"It's frightening how passive your voice was just now. Why? What did I do?"

Kelly wrapped her arms around her pup's stomach, careful not to aggravate her recovering wounds. "It wasn't you. It was what our daughter _said_. Sandra's heart warmed at the mention of 'our daughter', though it was quickly replaced by a near-crippling fear.

"Was it the chipmunk thing?" Kelly hummed in the affirmative, sending a spike of dread down her spine. Honestly, she had meant it as a joke, aimed at relieving her temper at the day's frustrations. One thing Sandra had learned about Linda: _never_ take pot-shots at her weight. People usually ended up dead. Or worse. Kelly coiled around her younger compatriot possessively as the woman shivered in fear.

"You would protect me though, right?"

"Unknown. What's in it for me?" Kelly responded, curious. She began to lazily trail her hands up and down Sandra's arms, who rolled her eyes at the implication.

"As much fun as it would be to break this bed, I don't want to add my name to anyone else's shit list. I was advised to keep any 'strenuous activities' to an absolute minimum." Kelly frowned behind her, resting her arms across the younger Spartan's taunt stomach. "Sorry, bunny. Look but don't touch." Kelly sighed in defeat, nestling her face within the locks of her partner, breathing in the lingering scent.

"Kelly?" She asked, all previous playfulness gone.

"Go ahead."

"What about Amber and I? As nice as this is, this is still a military vessel and I haven't been a Spartan for three years. We aren't permitted to be here and I won't allow anyone to break regs at my expense. I-"

"Shhh," Kelly interrupted. "Get some rest, Sandra. We can discuss this later." Sandra tried to roll over to argue her case, but Kelly wouldn't budge. Eventually, she gave up, burying herself into her lover's curves and closing her eyes. Kelly observed the rise and fall of Sandra's chest as she slept, until her eyelids felt like Scorpion tanks, heavy and cumbersome. With one final kiss, she intertwined her legs and fell to the beckoning call of sleep.

 **UNSC** _ **Infinity**_

 **23 Librae System**

 **0900 hours**

Sandra belted out a deep yawn as she eyed the green bag hanging before her. After her morning run among the Pelicans, the gym was her next stop, to knock the stiffness out of her limbs. Squaring up with the bag, she began her routine, altering punches and kicks to loosen up her unused joints. While her injuries prevented her from going all-out, she had accumulated an impressive amount of sweat before the door opened.

"Glad to see your awake. Again." Sandra sent the bag swinging with a roundhouse before turning around. The ex-AI hadn't really changed that much from when she was rescued three years ago. Beyond the longer hair and the absence of her Forerunner skin, Cortana still looked the same. _And still very blue. There must be some sort of thing for alien blue women. Who the hell knows?_

"It takes more than a couple of goons with guns to take me out." Cortana nodded understandingly, handing her one of two steaming cups of liquid. It amazed her sometimes how much the Chief and her had in common, namely for their propensity for attracting trouble and their incredible luck.

"Thanks for the coffee. How's the Chief?" Her cheeks glowed pink for a moment, a remnant from her days as an AI. She took a sip of her coffee, collecting her thoughts.

"Good." Cortana responded, distracted. She was staring off into the corner of the gymnasium and Sandra could hazard a guess as to why.

"Still getting used to the whole 'not-an-AI' thing?" A short nod was her only response as they sipped the dark morning brew from their mugs.

"When you live your whole life breaking down everything you see into multivariable calculations, knowing that eventually you will literally _think yourself to death_ , it's amazing I was able to last as long as I did. Not to mention the giant doomsday clock that constantly ticked away in the back of my head. Being able to see things as they are, not as base elements, not as calculations or variables, but as what they _truly are_ is quite…" She trailed off, uncertain how to finish.

"Liberating?" Sandra offered. Cortana smiled, her eyes twinkling with joy. The duo continued to sip their drinks, enjoying the calm before the storm. The early risers had already completed their workouts and the late bloomers wouldn't be up for another half an hour, at least.

"The Captain asked for you."

"Then let's move." Cortana gave a short nod, took the Spartan's cup, and followed her to the nearest lift.

* * *

The doors opened with a low hiss, allowing the last remaining attendee to enter before shutting them away from the outside noise of the busy ship. Lasky glanced up from his briefing, his serious face softening at the sight of the newest addition to Blue Team.

"You asked for me sir, ma'am?"

"You alright?" The question took Sandra off guard. Five sets of eyes and a golden faceplate turned to her, expecting a response.

"A little sore, but I'll be fine."

"Good." He gave a small smile and a nod, as if coming to a conclusion with himself. "How did you find us? Our location was classified and no offence, but you have been out of the loop for a while." Sandra let the sharp reminder of her 'sudden reassignment' roll over her as she mulled over how to respond.

"Sorry for the interruption, sir, but you're going to want to see this. _Now_."

"Show us." Lasky's commanding voice shifted the entire atmosphere on the bridge. Gone were the curious looks and subtle nudges. All eyes were focused on the letters that spun lazily above the table.

"Wide-band message across all frequencies. Unless you're living under a rock, there's no way someone isn't going to see this." Roland's calm voice projected. Lasky silently nodded, not taking his eyes off the logo.

The letters faded away, revealing a man in a deep navy suit, perfectly combed raven black hair, with the occasional grey streak and a strong complexion that put him into his mid-40's to early 50's. His blue eyes were hardened from one what might assume could easily stem from surviving a genocidal war with an alien hegemony. His confident physique looked like it could chisel marble and dazzling smile that could sell water to the ocean. All of this added up to one thing in Sandra's mind: _Target practice._

" _Hello to all. My name is Wilhelm Sundance and I am a member of the UNR, the United Rebel Front. For decades, we have been corralled and abused by the oppressive UNSC. And for a time, we allowed it, as our goals were similar in the face of extinction: survival. But with the once-grand Covenant in shambles, these imperialists have sought to enforce their will upon us once again. No more! You will find no message of hope or coexistence here: this is war. We will take any and all measures necessary to ensure that we can live our lives free of tyranny and brutality. But we do not throw away our men and women like toys! We will no longer strike from the shadows. Today is a new day. We are your family, your friends, lovers, coworkers…your comrades. The UNR will plunge a poisoned dagger deep into the heart of the UNSC and watch as it consumes itself with fear and hatred! They will try to stop us with their war dogs and their spies, but we shall not be deterred. Let me ask you: How do you cripple a god? Find it's weakness and destroy it. And what better way to do that then to strike down their poster children? Your armor may shield from the blood you swim in and the bones upon which you sit, but can it protect you from the coming storm?"_

Wilhelm faded from view, the screen splitting into four segments, each one focused on a central communications satellite. Each one acts as a dam, sending, funneling and receiving billions of communications each second. Though automated, they are pivotal to military and civilian communications alike, allowing information to be sent across lightyears in a matter of hours. It revolutionized communication systems as they knew it today. It was all gone in the blink of an eye.

Kelly thought she was watching a mission replay, her brain struggling to comprehend what was happening before her very eyes. Mars. Reach. Ballast. Chi Ceti IV. Blue eyes watched in horrified awe as the shockwave blew away floating debris, like a tsunami flooding a coastal town. Orange and red curled around one another, like lovers on a cold night, consuming all in its path. Like a hungry beast, they licked their way out into the black void, feasting upon the delectable fear of all of those who gazed upon its infernal form. The rest of the planets' networks followed suit, shattering like glass under the massive heat and pressure. Four planets, suddenly ripped from the communication network woven into every aspect of their lives. The planets would be crippled for months.

"Aura, get in touch with any task force near those planets. Preliminary damage assessment, reroute them if you have to. I don't care if you have the clearance or not." Lasky's voice cut through the disbelief, stirring Kelly and the other Spartans from the table in front of them.

"Of course, Captain."

"Roland, get me in touch with Admiral Hood. We can't just sit by and do nothing as these-"

"No need, Captain. Priority message coming through." _Infinity_ 's AI interrupted. "it's Admiral Osman."

"Bring it up." He stated, serious.

The head of ONI wore the same indignant, disappointed look she always bore. As if she was woefully unimpressed with anyone else other than herself. Those same cold, commanding eyes swept over the gathered individuals, pausing momentarily on Sandra, before coming back to rest on Lasky.

" _Captain. The Infinity is being redeployed_." It was an order. One Thomas knew better to question, even if he didn't understand why.

"Where ma'am?"

" _Imber, intel suggests the URF are attacking any world with UNSC presence. People are using his speech as a rallying cry. We need to put down this rebellion before it can get any worse. We will not have another Insurrection, is that clear?_ "

"Yes ma'am. But with all due respect, there are civilians on this ship. Protocol dictates that we are not allowed to purposefully engage in any form of combat while they are on board." Serin glared at Sandra from behind her folded arms, her unflinching gaze threatening to cut the woman in two. The blonde had been a constant pain in her ass. There had not been a single day that had passed that she hadn't wanted to shoot her. But, regrettably, she did have her uses. The intel she had provided had given the Admiral necessary time to sever quite a few heads from the URF hydra.

" _Drop her at the nearest UNSC controlled planet. Your mission is top priority_." She commanded flatly, ending the conversation.

"That's bullshit and we both know it, _Serin._ " Sandra growled from the back of the room, refusing to use the woman's rank. The woman glared angrily at the interruption, but kept silent, waiting for the blonde to continue. If Sandra wanted to dig her own grave she was more than willing to let her. Kelly brushed up against her teammate in a desperate attempt to stop the rash woman, but Sandra just brushed her off, stepping into full view beside Palmer, who was more than willing to step away from the Admiral's growing ire. "You heard it yourself, they are hunting Spartans. And, like it or not, I _am_ a Spartan. While you can never take what these people say at face value, this time I can say from personal experience that they want us dead. Badly. You read my report. They knew _exactly_ who I was. Now, I know you don't like me but I hope you aren't stupid enough to waste a valuable asset." Sandra smiled to herself as the Admiral leaned forward in her seat in an effort to intimidate her. _Nice try. Amber is more intimidating than you could ever be._

" _Let me remind you, Ms. Wolfe, that you are a civilian on a military vessel. One that is engaged in wartime operations_." Osman spoke calmly, through her jaw was clenched in anger at this woman's sheer disrespect and flippant attitude. She frowned even more as the woman didn't even flinch. " _However, the intelligence you provided proves an undeniable fact: because you are a Spartan, your death could be used as a rallying cry for the Insurrectionists. That is absolutely unacceptable. As such, you will under the command of Spartan Starr of Fireteam Oasis._ " She relished in the woman's clear unhappiness as her shoulders slumped in defeat.

" _Furthermore_ -" Sandra didn't let her finish as she ended the call with more force than necessary.

"Bitch." She hissed. At least she wouldn't be dumped in the middle of nowhere.

"Report to your station, Spartan." Commander Palmer ordered, surprise and amusement clear in her voice.

"Yes ma'am!" She saluted the two commanding officers before turning to the legendary Spartan. "See you out there, Chief!" Lasky waited till the bridge doors closed again before speaking.

"Roland, see to it that her armor is brought out of storage."

"You kept it?" Commander Palmer asked. She had expected the woman's armor had been removed from the _Infinity_ long ago.

"I had a feeling it might be of use some day." Palmer merely grunted, choosing not to voice her real opinion as to why in front of others. "Chief, get ready. We have no clue what to expect when we get there."

"Sir." His deep baritone heralded armored boots leaving the deck.

"Damn it," Palmer announced, exasperated. "I owe you those 200 credits now, don't I?" Lasky gave the Commander a sly grin which she returned with a shake of her head.

"You most certainly do, Commander."

 **November 23, 2561**

 **Imber Surface**

 **1300 hours**

Patricia Shaddock sat on a small bed, staring blankly at the picture in her hand. Her other hand was clutched over her chest, cradling a small data chip, the culmination of almost half a century of questions that she still had no answer to. A sad sigh escaped her lips as she placed the picture back on the nightstand. She wanted to cry, she really did. But she had used up her tears years ago. Now, all she had was emptiness and sorrow, remnants of a wound that would never heal. Tucking a silver lock behind her ear, she rubbed the bed affectionately. The sheets had been replaced many times over the years, but they always contained some aspect of nature, one of the few things she could remember her daughter had loved. The room was always clean and free of dust, as if she expected her daughter to walk through her door, her family in tow. They would cry and embrace and cry some more. Eventually, when all their tears were wiped away they would talk about what had happened, why her precious daughter had never returned to her. But this was just a fantasy- a vile trick her mind used to prey upon her insecurities and capitalize on her fears.

Overcome by her emotions, she threw the picture at the wall, breaking the frame and throwing shards of glass in all directions, like snowflakes in a blizzard. Worried footsteps hurried up the stairs before sharply opening the bedroom door. His eyes searched frantically for a few moments before coming to a rest on the deep blue sapphires of the elderly woman in the center of the room, completely unharmed.

"Mrs. Shaddock, you nearly gave me a heart attack!" She smiled softly at his plight. She had never made the job easy for the young man, even in her later years.

"You know better than to call me that, Timothy." He gave her an embarrassed, lopsided grin.

"Sorry Patr-Patty." Her smile widened and she nodded.

"That's better." She noticed him look to the broken frame and then back at her, as if asking: _Is it alright?_ Her daughter's things had always been a private affair. Though she needed help getting through her day sometimes, she wouldn't let anyone else interfere with her 'little memories' project, as she called it. When Timothy had first started caring for her, they had their share of fights about his interference in her 'hall of memories', but over the years he had come to understand her pain, at least to some extent, and stopped asking to help. When she shook her head no, he gave her a small smile.

"Just holler if you need me. Lunch is almost ready." He exited the small bedroom, leaving Patricia to her thoughts. _Oh Douglas, I wish you were still here. It hasn't been the same._ Indecision struck her as she stood in the middle of the room. She wanted to clean the mess she made, but she was famished. Shaking her head, amused with herself, she patted the bed again.

"Be good. Mommy will be back shortly." She took a few steps towards the door when a strange sound caught her ears. It was a _whoosh_ sound, like the wind that blew outside her window when she opened it at night. But she swore Timothy had closed all of them this morning. _Maybe my age is finally catching up with me._ Chuckling to herself, she reached for the doorknob as her world literally exploded. She barely had time to blink before something heavy hit her in the head, knocking her unconscious. Outside, gunfire rang in the streets as missiles soared overhead. War had come to Imber.

* * *

The Pelican descended through the skies towards its destination. Aside from the occasional turbulence or burst of AA fire, it was quiet. Their pilot was a no-nonsense veteran who was quiet except for the occasional update from _Infinity._ Sandra frowned behind her black-gold visor. She missed the banter, she missed her team. But if this was the price she had to pay to get back at these bastards who tried to kill her little angel, she would gladly pay it.

" _The URF have engaged our forces all across the planet. It's a bloodbath, and civilians are being caught in the crossfire. Your mission is to aid in the evacuation of New Bristol. Fighting has been fierce but it's been relatively quiet for the past few hours. We will be dropping you in a courtyard overlooking one of the parks. From there, you will make your way to Rally Point Bravo and rendezvous with Blue Team."_ Sandra looked over the city overlays and possible routes, forming a plan in her head in case things went south.

"Why not just drop us directly into the city?" A teal COMMANDO-variant Spartan asked. _P. Bretts,_ one of her old squad mates, he was one of the few still alive, having been recruited into the SPARTAN-IV program. After the initial shock, he joked with her and even offered to help reacclimate her to her armor. The rest of the day was spent either in the gym or on the range. Sandra enjoyed that he treated her like a member of the team, even without asking for any explanation of why she appeared out of nowhere after three years. Lasky's response pulled her attention back to the holographic screen.

" _We already lost two birds trying to land troops inside the city. Anti-air defenses are too much. The outskirts are the only option_."

"Understood, sir. We'll get it done."

" _See to it, Oasis_." Lasky ended the transmission. Sandra checked her weapons once again. Fighting in an urban setting she went with quantity over quality. Twin SMG's to blanket the enemy and a battle rifle to finish them off. It was an older series, trading stability for greater power and faster fire rate. Sandra had tested it out on a whim and fell in love with it

"Tiff, how we looking?" The black CYCLOPS didn't even look up from her M45 as she responded.

"As long as the new girl can keep up, backstreets are our new best friend." She seemed bored and Sandra had the urge to smack her upside the head. Or run her through. Sometimes, she surprised even herself.

"Don't expect me to pick you up if you trip over your kimono." Sandra shot back. The two women had not gotten off to a great start. Tiffany didn't want another woman on the fireteam and Sandra wasn't one to hold back insults when pushed into a corner. Finding out the woman was Asian just added fuel to the fire. Sandra had absolutely nothing against the woman's heritage, but it did give her sensitive topics to strike back with. With Kelly, she riled her up because she loved her. With Tiffany, she did it because she _didn't_ like her.

"Woah, keep it in the bedroom, ladies!" Patrick joked. Sandra and Tiffany continued to glare at each other behind their visors, but at least they were silent about it. Shaking his head, he placed a battle rifle on his back before pulling an AR from a nearby cradle. He caught his commander's visor, who jerked his head towards the two women. His question was obvious: _What's up with them?_ Bretts just shrugged, sliding a full magazine into the assault rifle.

" _Thirty seconds, Spartans._ " The large dropship squeezed into the small courtyard, leaving a few inches on either side. If the Insurrectionists decided the transport was a threat, it would have nowhere to flee. With that chilling thought in the back of the pilot's mind, he threw the gangplank open, allowing the four Spartans exit. They spread out, eyeing the surrounding buildings carefully, the transport throwing dust and debris around like ragdolls as it took to the sky once again. Once the roar of the cyan thrusters faded from earshot, did they realize just how quiet it was.

"There will be time for sightseeing later. Let's move, Oasis." Sandra and the others followed their commander as they made their way through the damaged city as stealthily as they could. New Bristol had seen better days, that was for sure. Bodies littered the streets, some so heavily riddled with bullets or ripped apart by explosions no one would ever recognize them. Red flowed through the once pristine streets like water as civilians were caught in the crossfire; the city was dying. Rockets had blown huge sections of buildings away, leading to their collapse as the structure could sustain itself no longer. But this scene wasn't exclusive to organics. Vehicles, now twisted husks of what they once were, their fires acting as beacons to a grim and grisly scene.

"The hell happened here?" Tiffany called over the TEAMCOM, both shocked and disgusted.

"We need to get off the street. The target on our backs is big enough as is." They made their way into the dark and cramped side streets, leaving Death to reap the souls of the living. They made their way through empty apartments, footsteps echoing along the abandoned corridors. Exiting the shattered shell of the apartment, Stephen glanced up to see an object falling from the sky.

"Cover!" He yelled over the silence. Four Spartans ducked behind whatever cover they could find, waiting for the danger to pass. The disturbing _splat_ it made as it met the unforgiving concrete was enough to pull them from cover. They swept the upper levels with their rifles looking for targets before moving quickly across the small courtyard. The man's eyes were open wide in horror as blood trickled from his mouth. His face was frozen into a pained grimace, as if he could still feel the blood pooling under him. Sandra's hands angrily tightened around the frame of her rifle. _Bastards!_ It was clear someone had tortured this man before eventually killing him and disposing of his body. There was nothing more she wanted to do then climb up there and kill every single one of them, her rage compelled her, called to her. She pushed the building anger aside, focusing on her fireteam leader instead.

"We clear this building, floor by floor. There might be civilians in need of aid." He spoke through clenched teeth. Three green lights acknowledged his orders. Each floor they climbed brought with it more corpses than any of them were prepared to see, each one more mangled than the last. The few dozen UNSC troopers they discovered led them to believe that this what remained of a botched evacuation. The gaping holes and mangled wrecks of transport Pelicans seemed to support the theory. The number of dead civilians was…unsettling, to say the least. Even Bretts, the chattiest of the four, was silent. Sandra didn't like it. This monolith of death, its skin torn off leaving its skeleton open to the elements, urged their heavy steps forward, lest the screams of the dead reach their ears.

They moved up each floor slowly, wary of traps. They were lucky so far: the battle that had raged within had set of any prepared traps, rewarding those caught within its grasp an untimely end. Sandra grasped one of her blades as they rested on her hips. Though they filled her with a sense of familiarity, they lacked the warmth of another person, particularly one clad in white armor that was currently making her own way to rally point Bravo to assist in the evacuation. Pushing through the last of the debris, they advanced up yet _another_ flight of stairs, pausing as voices echoed down the concrete stairwell.

"Listen lady, you better shut the hell up! Unless you want to join your friend 43 floors down." Sandra glanced over at the nearby floor marker. Though scorched, the numbers were still legible. Stephen signaled them forward with two fingers towards the voices. Sandra and the rest of Oasis crept into the blown-out rooms, spreading out to cover one another.

" _Ten tangos, two civilians. Whenever you're ready boss."_ Brett's said, sighting down one of the rebel troopers. A moment of silence passed. Then two. Then the order came.

" _Take them down!_ "

 **Come Back Next Chapter!**

With school starting up, my update schedule will slow down. For those of you who are unfamiliar with my wacky update schedule during school, it is usually a chapter a month or so. It may be faster or slower depending on my homework load and work. I have my priorities, as do we all. I'm sure you can find other stories on this site to tide you over till I can produce another chapter. And if anyone is interested in creating cover art for either of these two stories just let me know. Once again, favorite, follow and review! Till next time!


	3. Small Steps

**The Rabbit and the Wolfe**

Sorry it took me so long to get this out. School got in my way and the writer's block wasn't helping things any. We pick off where we left last chapter. I didn't like this chapter so much, but I have some good ideas in my head and they will make themselves known later down the road. Enjoy this chapter and don't forget to favorite, follow and review!

 **03: Small Steps**

 **November 23, 2561**

 **Imber Surface, New Bristol**

 **1430 hours**

Patricia covered the younger woman with her body as the heavens opened up and _roared_. More powerful than an earthquake and louder than a freight train in a tunnel, the decaying rooms around her were ripped apart by lead. One moment she was nursing a nasty gash as three armored men stood above her, blood spraying her clothes the next. Panicked voices were instantly cut short as golden flashes flooded the ruined structure, bathing the Spartans' vengeance in an after worldly glow. The widow felt a hand roughly grasp her arm as she struggled to protect the young girl from the chaos around them. Fear welled up inside her as her attacker meant to make good on his promise. Only he never got the chance. Something yanked the hand away, causing her off balance. There was a sickening wet _crack_ , the agonizing scream that followed was unsettlingly cut quiet. Swallowing her fear, she looked up at her assailant. His dark eyes were opened in fear as his corpse swayed heavily on the blood red sword that impaled him to the wall. One of his arms hung limply beside him, clearly broken.

She scrambled backwards, eyes wide with fear, as the Covenant weapon dredged up memories from her past that she desperately wanted to keep locked away within the deepest recesses of her mind, never to be opened again.

"Are you alright ma'am?" Patricia heard the question but did not answer, her eyes locked on to the blade which seemed to personify evil and hatred. It was as if the weapon itself had absorbed the blood from all the enemies it had claimed. A mass of teal blocked her vision, forcing her to look up into the dark yellow visor.

She swallowed thickly. "What? W-who are you people?"

"Were Spartans, here to help. Are you alright?" _Spartans_. She had heard about them from the news. Their strength, their courage, their unflinching resolve. How they had turned the tide of the war. While she wholeheartedly believed that some of their exploits were embellished for both viewer entertainment and to keep up morale, she also believed that without their influence, humanity very well would have lost the war.

"Y-yes. Just…" She trailed off, unsure how to finish.

"Shocked?" The Spartan offered. She nodded dumbly, horrifyingly fascinated by the carnage before her. Her roaming gaze caught a black armored figure tending to the other woman. Refocusing her gaze, she asked, "I am a little thirsty though. You wouldn't happen to have any water on you, would you?"

"Didn't you hear the stories? Were robots. We don't need such mortal amenities." The man's words bounced around in her head for a few short moments, before a frown overcame her features.

"If that was your attempt at humor, young man, I have to say, I've heard better." He just chuckled and shrugged his shoulders as she offered a small, if hesitant, smile in return.

"Wait here." He stood up and wandered off in search of a canteen, his teal armor disappearing behind a broken, bloodstained wall. Turning her head, she saw the person, _no, criminal_ , she told herself, who tried to attack her now collapsed unceremoniously on the floor. Mercifully, the red blade was no longer in sight. Forcing down the rising bile in her throat, she focused her attention elsewhere. Two of the soldiers were talking in the corner, though by their posture, it looked more like an argument. What about, she couldn't tell. With nothing to do until the soldier returned with some water, she pulled a folded photograph from her pocket. Though crumpled, singed and yellow with age, the faces imprinted upon them conjured joyful memories of a simpler time. A happier time. She was still a young woman at that time, brown hair and a modest black dress doing its best to show off her post-baby body. The man, her husband, though forced into a stiff suit which did not please him in the slightest, wore a beaming smile. But the most heart wrenching piece was the young girl in the middle. The young child was only five at the time and it had been a constant hassle to get her to do anything she didn't want to do, like get her picture taken. Only after the promise of ice cream were her parents able to find some semblance of relief. The little girl's white dress was offset by her blue hair and her even bluer eyes, which shined like sapphires. _My little sapphire_ , she thought somberly, caressing the photograph, before placing it back in her pocket.

Looking up, she took in the teal soldier who was standing a few feet away from her, wanting to respect her privacy. Wordlessly, he handed the canteen to Patricia, who took several greedy gulps, the cool liquid doing much to revitalize her tired body.

"Can you move on your own?" He asked, taking the canteen back. Patricia raised a skeptical brow. She was no longer in her prime, yes. But that didn't mean she was old, or slow.

"If I was 40 years younger, I could run circles around you." Bretts chuckled at the challenge and gingerly helped the woman to her feet, escorting her to the rest of Oasis who were waiting a few floors below.

 **Imber Surface, New Bristol**

 **1700 hours**

Linda lay prone in one of the ruined buildings on the outskirts of rally point Bravo. Behind her, UNSC troops began the slow and painstaking process of evacuating the citizens of New Bristol. Civilian transports slowly filled with terrified, confused people before the large engines rumbled to life, lifting those aboard to safety. When they arrived, Master Chief had instructed Kelly and Fred to assist in any way they could while he reported to the officer in charge. Then he told Linda to cover their backs. That is why she was currently hidden in the shadow of a concrete slab of a partially-toppled building, offering the sniper an almost unrestricted view of the street below. Taking slow, even breaths, she allowed her mind to wander, assured she could keep one eye on the open corridor below.

 _Megan_ _Dikos_. Her aquamarine-haired friend had been a part of many of her musings as of late. They had accidently bumped into one another when Megan's nephew had engaged the legendary Spartan in a rapid-fire questionnaire, making the red head uneasy from all the attention. Thankfully, she had been saved by the ocean herself with the offer of dinner before Megan ushered her nephew out. That offer had not worked out well. Not only did the sniper bail at the last minute, but she had nearly blown her date's head off to boot. From there, Linda still didn't know how or why, their relationship had transformed into an uneasy friendship. That bond had only strengthened over time, even as Linda desperately tried to keep the woman at a safe distance. And although Megan was thoughtful and understanding, she had a stubborn streak that could stop Linda in her tracks like a chieftain with a gravity hammer. She was her only friend outside of Blue Team, really her only friend at all. Admittingly, they had become close over the past couple years, to where Megan considered her a 'best' friend. How that distinction was any different from 'just a friend' was lost to the red headed sniper.

" _Any contact?"_ Chief's deep voice pierced through her mind as her focus returned to the street. Motion trackers and visual were clear. There was no sign of Oasis or any hostiles.

"Negative."

" _Copy that, Linda. Mission update when they arrive."_

"Affirmative." Chief cut the link, allowing her to scan the street once more. Besides the bodies they had passed on the way in, nothing was out of place. Her sights were clear, allowing her to once more delve into the recesses of her mind.

She may not have understood the varying levels of friendship, but she _could_ identify startling similarities between her friendship and Kelly's romantic involvement with her teammate. That thought alone terrified her. Tendrils of fear slid across her mind like a squid trying to capsize a sailing ship. They lasted but for a few moments before her implants engaged to help shred every atom of the negative emotion. As the last remnants of the cloud dispersed, Linda allowed herself to relax, molding into the stock of _Nornfang_. _I will not be compromised. Kelly adapted but her efficiency in combat has degraded. That cannot happen to me. I miss, I react to slowly, someone dies._ Yet, as she reassured herself, a single sentence from Megan's last message lit angry embers inside her mind.

 **I found someone.**

Those three words conjured a nasty, bitter feeling in her chest, the likes of which Linda had never experienced before. Her glove coiled around the grip like a python and for the first time in her life, hoped that a Covenant patrol meandered around the nearest corner, just so she could blow their heads apart. Linda knew she had no right to feel this way, but over the years had protected Megan on a number of occasions, becoming her guardian of sorts. Finding out her duty had been usurped by some unknown individual unnerved and angered her to no end.

 _Relax. Her protection is not your mission._

 _Oh really? I thought it was your job to protect Humanity?_ Her mind shot back.

 _It is. But this is one person, not Humanity at large. Your interest is not beneficial, merely holding you back._

 _You want to tell her that?_

…

 _Thought so. You find her interesting, enjoy her company? She makes you...happy?_

…

… _yes_

 _Then why don't you-_

"I will **not** be compromised!" She hissed. Glancing down the street, a lone URF soldier was creeping along some toppled buildings. Linda didn't hesitate to put a fist-sized hole in the man's chest, the sharp _crack_ of the rifle reverberated down the blood-stained street, vocalizing her denial.

 _Your angry. You need to calm down. Emotions are a liability you can't afford._

Inhaling and exhaling slowly, Linda counted her breaths to calm herself, a trick she learned as a child. The oranges and purples of the evening sky bathed Imber in a temperate glow, a soothing gift from Mother Nature herself. The sniper felt at ease, scanning the street once more before her radio crackled to life.

" _Blue Team, this is Oasis."_

"Acknowledged, Oasis. Path is clear." Linda responded.

" _Understood. Inbound."_ Starr said, severing the link. From her perch, Linda was able to see the four Spartans make their way through the street below, along with two civilians. Waiting until she could no longer cover them from her perch, she backed out from under the slab, clamped her sniper to her back and jogged down the twisted and broken staircase to rendezvous with Oasis. The mission was not over yet.

* * *

Kelly and Fred jogged into the open atrium, its concrete walls spiraling up into the orange heavens above. In another time, the spiraling glass and concrete building would have been an engineering marvel, with its unique curves and slants, filling all that viewed its majesty with awe. Kelly didn't really care for its uncommon artistic outlook as long it was structurally sound, though it did remind her of something Deja taught her. A faint memory of a molecule that carried information that made each of them special in their own way. Gave each and every Spartan a competitive edge against the Covenant. _DNA_ ;that was what she called the molecule.

This particular reconstruction of concrete and glass looked corroded, almost terrifyingly so. Distant explosions caused the makeshift HQ to shake and groan under the stress, dust settling on the shocked and relieved faces that were cramped inside the area due to lack of room in the courtyard beyond the doors. The scout could _feel_ rather than hear the transports as they took to the skies.

"Glad to see you haven't slowed down in your old age." Sandra teased her in a low voice, gently bumping her hip.

"Funny." Kelly replied dryly, but couldn't resist the urge to roll her eyes at her lover's playful demeanor. Killing other humans had never been easy for any of them. She appreciated the distraction. "Still playing nice?"

"You wish." Sandra broke off to hand a small toy to the awe-filled, tired eyes of a child. She smiled behind her helmet. There was always a spark of light in the darkness if you looked hard enough. Fred picked up his pace, eager to distance himself. Kelly wanted to continue their conversation, maintain the delusion of normalcy. But this was neither the time nor place.

"Sandra." Kelly warned, before they entered into a small office that branched off the main atrium. Master Chief waited until both teams were situated before he began.

"The mission has changed. There have been multiple reports of an Insurrectionist command center further within the city. We are to infiltrate the camp and remove the commander. Questions?" He transferred the schematics of the camp to the other seven Spartans.

"Civilians?" Fred questioned.

"It's a dead zone." Sandra thought she heard the word _theoretically_ attached to that statement but she couldn't be sure, and she wasn't about to question it. Though she did have a question of her own.

"Not to beat a dead horse here, but why us? I doubt we're the first team going in there if the intel is this good." It was beginning to feel like Teash all over again.

"Fireteam Tiger was dropped in four hours ago." _But they never reported in_ Sandra finished. She gave the legend a quick nod and left, followed out by the rest of Oasis. Linda cast a distracted glace at the open door before voicing herself.

"She's still a civilian, Chief."

"She's smart. She would figure it out eventually." Fred shot back, mildly impressed at Blue 5's abilities of deduction.

"Kelly?" She looked at the Chief, who had his palms up and gave her a slight shrug, an indication that he would like her opinion.

"As a civilian, she should not be privy to classified material of any nature."

"But?" Linda interjected, placing a hand on her hip, a clear sign that she was annoyed.

"I wouldn't stop her if she stumbled upon it." Kelly finished, proving that she was still on the blonde's side. Linda dropped her hand with an almost imperceptible huff and stormed off as angrily as her stoic upbringing would let her.

Fred shook his head good naturedly, following the peeved sniper outside, the other two heroes trailing silently behind him. Kelly took her leave, marching up behind her purple armored pup. Sandra glanced across the atrium, her green eyes catching the focused movements of Blue Team's resident sniper. Sandra could feel the redhead's glare bore into her skull as they locked eyes. Suppressing a spike of fear, she shot Linda a quick gesture. It had the desired effect. Linda stiffened, anger and annoyance projecting themselves in her jerky movements. Shooting Blue 5 a quick hand gesture of her own, Linda left the dusty building, eager to be rid of the infuriating blonde, at least for the moment.

" _Why do you do that?_ " Kelly asked, exasperated, once they established a private channel.

"Because it's fun? Seriously, she needs to get laid."

" _Linda is a Spartan_." Kelly responded flatly, intending to end the conversation there. But when have things ever gone her way when dealing with Sandra?

"True. But she's also a woman. A woman with more than thirty years of pent up sexual frustration. That would make _anyone_ go insane!" And just like that, Kelly was drawn right back in the conversation. _The things I do for this woman…_

" _Do you remember how difficult it was to get me to open up?_ " Sandra nodded, examining the bolt of her battle rifle with great interest. " _Not only are her implants functioning correctly, but she was always more reserved than everyone else, minus the Chief. I don't think trying to get her to 'loosen up' will end well. You're just pissing her off."_ Sandra nodded solemnly. It was not often that she was this quiet. Kelly waited patiently, busying herself with _Oathsworn_ , keeping the channel open if her pup wished to add anything.

"I wonder…" Sandra spoke quietly. Kelly bumped her arm in an effort to get her to continue. Whatever it was it must be serious if her ever-rambunctious lover kept quiet for this long. Sandra looked at her polarized faceplate for a few terse seconds, lowering her gaze to the ground once more. Kelly glanced around quickly for anyone that could eavesdrop on their conversation. No one hardly even noticed the two Spartans sitting together with all the commotion surrounding the atrium. Giving Sandra's hand a reassuring squeeze, she leaned in until their shoulders were nearly touching.

"Take your time, little pup. We don't leave till dark." Sandra sat up straight, emboldened by her lover's words.

"I wonder…if she prefers the Sapphic Shuffle or the Penile Polka?" Kelly stared, dumbfounded. Sandra had spent the last ten minutes pondering _this_ question?! Their visors met and Kelly could see her lover shake with silent laughter. Her fists curled fiercely around her shotgun in a conscious effort to prevent choking the love of her life.

" _Why the bloody hell do I know you?"_ She deadpanned, before severing the private channel, leaving the younger Spartan to laugh herself silly. Love was never an easy emotion to understand, always moving, always changing. It took just as much as it gave, wrenching the heart back and forth at its whim. Today, love had strengthened her sense of humor, quietly snickering as she joined the others outside.

 **November 25, 2561**

 **Unknown Location**

 **1130 hours**

The URF cell leader scrutinized the video file before him, tapping away the ashes of an expensive cigar into a crystal ashtray beside him. His cold eyes tracked every detail, memorizing them, storing them away for future use. Taking another draw from his cigar, careful to keep any ash away from his immaculate suit, he watched as the Spartans of Blue Team and Fireteam Oasis cleared out what his agents had deemed a 'temporary internment camp'. He wasn't all that surprised of their existence, nor was he unaware of their reputation for cruelty and abuse. Camps such as these had emerged during the Human-Covenant War, and while the ones back then were much milder in their treatment, the premise had not changed.

 _Simple-minded, arrogant fools. Once they have a taste of power, they always crave more. Their want for more is often short lived and rarely ends peacefully. But I suppose such simpletons have their uses. They allow those with_ _ **real**_ _power, true control, to assess their enemy's strengths and weakness. What makes them thrive, what makes them fall._ The children of the UNSC _would_ die, _him_ most of all. A wickedly gleeful grin spread across his face as he pressed a button on his desk. _I know just the person._

"Kathy, could you bring me a whisky on the rocks? The 2550 Highstream, if you please."

"Of course, sir. Anything else?" Was her airy response. Thank god for secretaries. Money may make the world go round, but nothing would get done without them.

"Yes. Could you pass a message along to Major Reilcat, it's time to move our plan ahead. The usual method should suffice."

"Of course. I will be but a moment." The line went dead. A few moments later the black oak doors opened, admitting a young beauty into the room. She met him behind his desk in a few short strides, and held out the expensive drink for him to take. He raised the crystal to his lips and took a long swallow, enjoying its smoothness.

"The security forces you requested are downstairs in the lobby." She chimed, earning an understanding nod from her boss. His computer chirped, pulling his attention away from his secretary. With a wave of his hand he dismissed her.

"I will be down in a few moments." If she gave a response he didn't catch it, as he accepted the encrypted call. "Were moving up our timetable. Everything is ready." His statement was met with grumbled cursing.

"Don't worry, you'll still get your chance. Imber lacked the desired effect. We have to try a different approach. We hit them when their guard is down. If that plan fails, we will draw them out into the open."

" _How?_ " Alex questioned. He knew to keep his responses short to protect their plans.

"Don't worry about it Alex, at least for now. I know that is not the response you want, but I still need to correct a few last-minute mistakes. Until then, the plan stands as-is. Keep clipping those eagle wings and when you think the time is right, knock the nest out of the tree."

" _And if the nest is still there after I throw some rocks at it?"_ Wilhelm could hear the agitation in his friend's voice. It pained him to admit it, but he had to keep some secrets from him, if only to preserve the integrity of his operation.

"Then we go with plan C: draw them out." Wilhelm released a tired sigh. The day's events were really starting to wear him down. "I will have Kathy pass on the necessary info. I must go to a meeting. Good luck, brother."

" _Good luck to you as well. Some of those politicians can be worse than an Elite_." A smile leaked into his chuckle as he cut the connection. Over the past few years the two of them had spent months planning this operation. Though initially wary of one another, they soon became fast friends. There was no one he trusted more. Gulping down the last of his whiskey, he locked down his office and boarded the elevator at the end of the hall. The pieces were falling into place. Now all he had to do was wait.

 **November 25, 2561**

 **UNSC** _ **Infinity**_ **, S-deck**

 **2200 hours**

The raid deep within the heart of New Bristol was successful. Although the level of its 'successfulness' depended on who you asked. Fireteam Tiger's information was not as clear cut as Blue Team first thought. Although it housed a command center of sorts, its main priority was controlling civilians. " _It's a damn internment camp."_ Tiffany had told the others. So they adjusted their mission parameters. Then they found Fireteam Tiger. What remained of them, anyway. They had been used for target practice and left to die from their injuries. Slurs and curses had been sprayed onto their armor, an artistic rendition of the hate and anger the UNSC seemed to create in the wake of colonization. The treatment of their fellow Spartans left them bitter and angry as they awaited reinforcements. That was two days ago.

Sandra shook her head angrily, her ponytail whipping around like a golden hurricane. _They murdered Tiger._ Her nails dug pointedly into her palms as she repeated the phrase over and over. _Those bastards!_ Sandra pummeled the bag before her without a thought, anger clouding her mind. These three years had given her freedom to express her emotions in whatever way she wanted. Such freedoms rarely came without a price. Sandra had become complacent, allowing her emotions to lead her. Trying to fit back into the emotional mold of the military was not an easy task. She had allowed her emotions to get the better of her on Imber and it put her team in danger.

"You hit like a girl." Sandra smothered a growl as she turned to face the newest annoyance of the day.

"What do you want?" She snapped. She was having a hard time as it was, that she had knowingly placed her team in danger. Sandra was in _no_ mood to deal with Tiffany's bullshit on top of it all.

The woman gave an airy laugh. "Just stopped by to let you know that Oasis is back to a three-man team. You know, like it was before you shoved your nose where it doesn't belong. Without you." Sandra met her smug smile and pointed hazel eyes. Tiffany was probing for a reaction, but Sandra wasn't about to give her the satisfaction.

"Makes sense." She answered noncommittally. She completely missed the surprised look cross the raven-haired Spartan, instead taking a swig of water and wiping the sweat off her face with a small towel. Tossing the damp towel over her shoulder, Sandra was met by an angry glare. Frowning, she raised a blonde brown in question.

"Don't even _think_ about trying to get all cozy with Bretts. He's mine." _Oh. That's where all that extra hostility came from._

"What you do with that swamp of yours is none of my business."

"Swamp?!" Tiffany shrieked. Her face blossomed red as Sandra donned a smug grin of her own. Pointing a shaking slender finger at the blonde, she spoke through clenched teeth. "Like you would even know what to do with one. And even if you did, they would have to be mentally inept or just blind to not run away screaming at the sight of you." Sandra shook her head sadly at the childish insults they were throwing back and forth. She was tired, ached all over and was in a generally bad mood.

"Oh, go choke on a big, fat koi." She snarled, pushing past the fuming Spartan, intending on collecting her things and taking a nice warm, if brief, shower.

* * *

Kelly rolled her eyes as Sandra wearily batted her hands away once again. She had entered her room not a half hour ago to find the blonde sprawled out across her bed, one arm across her face, a trail of drool pooling on the pillow below. _She's adorable. Like a little puppy._

"Get up Sandra. You need a shower."

"Noooo." She whined. Kelly released a huff of air through her nose. For being a Spartan, the blonde could sure act like a child. Obviously, acting like a responsible adult was getting her nowhere. She needed a different approach. It was unbecoming of a soldier, especially a Spartan, and she would be utterly humiliated if any of her siblings caught her like this, but it was Sandra. She loved the woman with all her heart, but her juvenile behavior called for a less…tactical approach.

"Do you want a kiss, little pup?" She asked softly. Crawling on the bed was humiliating, and she was terrified that Linda, or worse, Fred would enter her room. He would tease her to no end. But the thought of removing the blonde from her clean bed spurred her on. Green eyes met her own, tired but filled with boundless energy. The smirk on Sandra's face made Kelly question her decision.

"Don't fight a war you can't hope to win." Swallowing thickly, Kelly soldiered on. She _was_ a Spartan after all. Winning was in her bones. Sapphires flashing in determination, she straddled her lover. Leaning in close, she nuzzled the crook of Sandra's neck, eliciting a soft, joyful sigh.

"I'm going to get you out of my bed, don't worry about that." Sandra tapped her chin for a few seconds, contemplating.

"No. I don't think so." Sandra replied smartly. Her smirk was quickly lost as Kelly nibbled her earlobe, ignoring the fact that her face was heating up. "If you wanted me in your bed all you had to do was ask, bunny. I would have hopped right in." Sandra said between breaths, her puns only irritating the veteran. _Focus, Kelly. Don't let her get to you. Shower, remember?_ Nodding to herself, she drew herself back, to find Sandra had her hands behind her head, humming a silent tune to herself. Sandra was ignoring her. On purpose! _Why you!_ Grinding her teeth in frustration, she pondered a way to pull her emerald-eyed lover back in.

Then it came to her. It was terrible, horrible even. But if Sandra _actually_ took a shower, all the humiliation would be worth it.

"Roland?" She called.

" _Just an empty room, Petty Officer. ONI can try, but they won't find anything. Aura is running interference. She's is scarily good at it. Though Cortana would have something to say about it."_

"Thank you, Roland." Out of the corner of her eye she could see Sandra trying not to look interested. But her eyes betrayed her. _I'll give you something to look at!_ Pulling off her shirt and tossing it on the floor, she stood up, letting her hair free from its bindings. "I am going to take a shower. A nice, warm shower. Since you are a civilian, you are not allotted any water time of your own." She removed her pants next, the lightweight material sliding gently over her smooth toned legs. Clad in just her underwear, she continued her deliberate, slow pace to the cozy bathroom. Strangely, the flair of her hips as she walked came almost as naturally as pull the trigger. "It would be a shame to deprive you of proper hygiene. But I am only taking one." She stepped through the open door, removing the last of her upper coverings. Looking over her shoulder, she gave Sandra the slyest smirk she could manage, relishing in the fact that the green pools of her lover were alive with desire, licking her lips in anticipation. _Mission accomplished,_ she thought to herself, turning on the stream of water.

Bending over, she removed the last of her clothing. Kelly's face took on a new shade of red as she turned around, pushing her chest together with her arms, twisting nervously. Batting her eyelids bashfully, she spoke with as much confidence as she could manage with the monsoon of butterflies swirling in her stomach. If Sandra _ever_ told anyone what she did, well…it wouldn't end well for her blonde. Biting her lip, she gazed deeply into the forests before her. "I'm cold. Can you warm me up?"

Stepping back, the closed door muffled the sound of rustling fabric as Sandra struggled to free herself. The curse that followed when she fell off the bed was not. Smiling to herself, Kelly entered the warm water, waiting for her second half to join in the festivities. She didn't have to wait long.

 **Come Back Next Time!**

School was taking up a lot of my time, that is why it took me so long to get this chapter out. That and I was planning out this story (at least the major events) and outlining this story has been a task all on its own. Sorry if it seems rushed. I know it was not my best work and I struggled through the entire thing. I hope the next one will be a better read for you all. Don't forget to favorite, follow and review!


	4. Burying the Elephant

**The Rabbit and the Wolfe**

Sorry about the long wait time for an update. The semester at school is finishing up soon, and as usual, the projects are being piled on. I will try to keep up as best I can, but until school lets out for the summer, I will be slow to update. Not really much else to say. This is kind of a fluff chapter before some action. Enjoy!

 **04: Burying the Elephant**

 **November 26, 2561**

 **UNSC** _ **Infinity**_ **, S-deck**

 **0800 hours**

Soft thumps echoed down the metal halls, like drips from a faucet. Peeking around a corner, curious eyes spotted a familiar figure enter one of many identical doors lining the hall. Looking behind her, she quickly observed the halls were empty save for the constant hum of the ships powerful engines. Creeping silently along the wall, a shrouded hand reached for the access pad when a voice caught her.

" _What are you doing?"_ Roland asked quietly. Robed arms rushed to cover the squeak that pushed itself out of her mouth.

"I-I-I." She stammered, a lavender blush dusting her cheeks at having been caught sneaking.

" _You know you need to be under the care of an adult, remember? No roaming around the ship. Captain's orders."_ Amber puffed out her cheeks, annoyed, and gave the ceiling the fiercest glare she could muster.

"That isn't fair. I'm six years old!" She whispered harshly, stomping her hoof for emphasis.

" _Six years old? Wow. You must be suuuuper smart then."_ Roland replied sarcastically, ignoring the low growl from the young Sangheili.

"She _is_ older than you, though. You're like her smarter, younger cousin." A calm voice rumbled behind her. His massive frame took up most of the doorway, curious green eyes stared back into her surprised golden ones. The AI grumbled something neither of them could hear before quieting once more. They stood awkwardly in the hall for a few moments before Fred cracked a smile.

"Roland did have a point. The captain would not appreciate you running around the ship unsupervised. You could get hurt." He looked either way down the corridor, but it was empty save the two of them. "Where is Dr. Cassidy or your…" Fred trailed off, uncomfortable, though Amber failed to notice.

Amber wiped her nose with the sleeve of her robe. "Muver and mommy are asleep and the doctur lady is boring. She makes me sleepy." Fred chuckled, which only perplexed the young alien further.

"Doctors can be boring, no doubt about that." Fred stepped aside, "Come join the fun!" He added cheerily, ushering Amber into the rather larger room. The room was sparse, with only a few metal chairs, footlockers and tables, one of which had a red-headed Spartan hunched over it, obscuring whatever she was working on.

"Aunty Winda!" Amber squealed, rushing over to the sniper, nearly tripping over her robe in her scramble. Her head shot up from the workbench at the sudden interruption, slamming into the lamp above her. Muttering silent curses, she turned with a frown as Amber jumped into her arms. Fred laughed at Linda's obvious discomfort as the child crawled all over her, eager to investigate her dark red tresses. The woman looked like she was debating whether kicking the alien away like a live grenade would be a smart idea. In the end, she gave in. With a loud, defeated sigh, she let go of Amber, allowing the alien to crawl into her lap, getting lost in the blood red locks.

"Looks like you have an admirer, Linda. Hope you don't let it go to your head." Linda shot Fred an obscene gesture before returning to her work, Amber occasionally peeking over her shoulder. Fred busied himself with a game of solitaire. As usual, John was nowhere to be seen. To him, John seemed much more relaxed these past few years. Though he still kept a professional distance as Blue Team's leader, he did spend more time between missions with them. Just yesterday he played a few rounds of poker with the two of them before something else dragged him away. _And I have a pretty good guess as to why_. The hiss of an opening door drew his attention away from the cards.

Cortana drifted into the common area, eyes glued to the data pad in her hands, fingers rapidly tapping away.

"Fred." She gave a pleasant, but succinct greeting as she made her way to one of the few unoccupied chairs.

"Ma'am." She paused in her work, but didn't look up. Something in his tone was different. She recalled John using the same one before to direct her attention to something without showing any physical movement. It was one of the ticks she had picked up from being the Spartan's eyes and ears for so long. Calmly placing the pad in her lap, she met his gaze. Every few seconds his eyes would snap to the other side of the room for just a second, an obvious gesture in the Spartan handbook. _What does he want me to look at?_ The ex-AI was still somewhat unnerved by her lack of senses as an organic. When she was in control of a ship, she could pinpoint anyone onboard instantly. The lack of such digital enhancements left her feeling aggravated with herself as she struggled to complete tasks that took a conscious effort. Silver-blue eyes scanned the room curiously, coming to rest on a wide-eyed pair of golden orbs. The little Sangheili's jaw was moving to form syllables, but none reached her ears. Most of her gray skin was covered in a purple and white ornamental robe which seemed a size too large for her frame. Though she was largely curled around Linda, the sniper seemed oblivious to the intrusion, performing delicate maintenance on her precious rifle.

"Well hello there, little one. What's your name?" Cortana said gently, giving the saurian a small smile. In truth, she didn't know if the young alien understood her, she was just trying to be friendly.

The child stared open mouthed at her for a few moments, flabbergasted before she responded. "I Amber. Why you blue? Did you fall into paint?" A laugh erupted from the ex-AI's lips, soft and sincere, one she tried to cover behind her hand. The innocent, clueless response was a welcome reprieve from the strict mentality of engineering, a place she found herself in most of her days, lending her brain where she could. It was a place she could lend her skills in an environment more suited to her new existence. While certainly challenging, and Aura was a great help, it lacked the closeness she had when inside the MOLJNIR armor…inside _John's_ armor.

Amber cocked her head at the strange woman. She didn't understand what she was laughing at. "What's funny?" She questioned.

"You are adorable." Cortana offered, pulling a stray blue lock behind her ears. Amber's maw pulled into a smile. "But no, this is not paint. This is my natural color." Amber looked to the side, as if contemplating something.

"Oh! Mother told me about you! You're the wrobit lady!" Her brow furrowed in confusion. "You don't look like a robot though.

Cortana chuckled at Amber's grasp of the world around her. "No, I'm not a robot. I was an AI…once." The young Sangheili blinked, puzzlement clear in her face.

"An A…I…? What dat?" Linda swatted one of the child's hands away as it came dangerously close to poking her in the eye.

"Do you know Roland?" Amber's blank looked failed to change so she tried another approach. "The voice around the ship?" _That_ got a reaction. The young girl glared angrily at the ceiling and made a retching sound, almost as if she was on the verge of throwing up.

"He a meanie!" Linda snorted in amusement. Cortana merely smiled and returned to her work as Amber climbed off a relieved red-headed sniper and roamed about the room aimlessly. Fred returned to his game of solitaire, casting a glance towards the young alien in their care. He felt a shiver creep down his spine at the thought of anything happening to the little munchkin. That was not a place he _ever_ wanted to find himself in. He rubbed his chest where Sandra's 'swords' ran him through three years ago. Fred did not want to be the target of a live vivisection. With such a vivid thought pulsing through his mind, he quickly gave up his cards and settled into his chair, determined to keep a close watch on Kelly's kid, lest something _unpleasant_ happen to him.

"Ms. AI lady?" Cortana looked down from her data pad to Amber beside her. "Mother always said to be nice. She told me the best way to do dat is to learn names. So, what yours?" The ex-AI rubbed her head gently, earning a soft coo for her menstruations.

"I am Cortana." Amber gave her a toothy smile, one she returned. It looked almost feral, but Amber pulled it off beautifully. "So, who is your mother?"

Amber giggled and patted Cortana's knee, like she was a small child. "Why do grown-ups ask such sillwy questions? Mother is mother."

"You got me there." She conceded, pulling Amber into her lap as the young alien tried to climb up her legs. "So, _where_ is your mother?"

"Sleeping with mommy, where else?" Cortana was glad she was not in a Marine barracks. That could be interpreted _so_ many ways, most of which were not suitable for the ears of a small, innocent child.

"Who is your mommy?" She tried again. Amber sighed.

"You know, for a robot, you're really un-smart." Cortana gritted her teeth as Roland's laughter filtered inside the room.

" _Wow, Cortana, you want some biofoam for that burn?"_

"Roland." She growled out. "You don't disappear in the next three seconds, I will have Aura install your matrix into a toaster!" The AI's laughter instantly cut off. _Much better_.

"Well then, why don't you show me where they are?" Amber nodded rapidly. Cortana stood up and bid farewell to the two Spartans as they left the room.

* * *

"Who knew you could pull off cute and innocent so well?" Sandra offered as she nuzzled into Kelly's warm body behind her. Reflexively, Kelly wrapped her arms tighter around her lover. Sandra giggled lightly. "Your so cute when your flustered." Kelly muttered under her breath as she breathed in the smell of her pup's hair. They lay in silence for a few moments before Kelly asked something that had been on her mind since last night.

"Sandra, why is your gear here? You were assigned to Oasis." Sandra's shoulders drooped slightly; she knew this was coming. Shifting her weight, she tried to roll over, only to find out she couldn't.

Rolling her eyes, she looked back as far as she could. "Could I roll over please? Believe me, I am _not_ stepping out into that icebox anytime soon." A few seconds passed before Kelly's arms loosened enough for her to look her scout properly in the eyes. Sandra flashed a small smile before placing a kiss on Kelly's inviting lips. "Much better." She leaned in again, greedy for another smooch, but was stopped with a finger to her lips and a mild glare from her partner.

"Answer the question." Kelly stated firmly.

"Then kisses?" Sandra responded.

"Depends on your answer." Sandra pouted as her scout's tips twitched up at the ends.

"Well," She snaked her arms around the taller woman's waist, pulling her close. "I got into a bit of a 'disagreement' with Spartan Starr."

"Somehow, with you, I doubt it was that simple." Kelly replied flatly.

"Hey! Whose side are you on anyway?" Sandra responded, playfully swatting at her arm. "No, I guess not. Adjusting to civilian life was…difficult. Switching back was even harder. I guess I didn't realize how much I changed. Imber proved that. I don't know why I wasn't thrown into the brig, but I am certainly not going to complain. But I was kicked out of Oasis. Pretty sure they don't want me back anytime soon."

"Why do you have to be so complicated?" Kelly wondered, mildly annoyed. Sure, she wanted Sandra to behave herself, she was notoriously good at _not_ doing so, but it warmed her heart that the blonde's first thought was to come to her.

"Uh, because simple is boring? If you wanted a ditzy, simple girl, guess you'll just have to look elsewhere."

"I don't want anyone else. I want you." Kelly replied simply. Sandra, surprised at such a simple declaration, bathed her scout in a brilliant smile.

"Oh? Is it because of my awesome southern accent? My amazing muscles? The fact that I keep you on your toes?" She asked, wiggling her eyebrows playfully.

"One, that accent, although occasionally effective is forced. Two, my musculature is much more complete and well-defined than yours." Kelly leaned in, kissing away the pout that formed on her pup's face. "And the third reason you listed? Well…I would rather have you on your knees." She whispered seductively. If Sandra had been eating, she surely would have choked to death. Her mouth opened and closed uselessly as she struggled to form a complete sentence. Her face flushed scarlet as she stared, shocked, at the woman curled up with her.

"W-w-w-w-w-w-where did you learn t-that?" She stammered out.

"Spartans are _very_ resourceful." Kelly 's chuckles rumbled through the air as Sandra slowly drew the sheet over her beet-red face, shocked and embarrassed.

"For a Spartan, you have a naughty mouth." Came Sandra's response, slightly muffled under the sheets.

"We adapt. Always have. Always will."

"What about Chief and the others?" She asked, doubt creeping into the blonde's voice.

"What about it, Blue 5?" Sandra was silent for a few moments. Kelly was about to peek under the sheets to see if her love had fallen asleep when she was lightly poked in the side. She squirmed uncomfortably for a second until a blonde mane poked out from the sheets.

"I love you, you know that?"

"Yes." Kelly replied, a hint of a question poking through her voice near the end.

"Good. Now that's settled, can we have kissy time?" Kelly rolled her eyes as she tilted her head down to meet her pup's lips. They molded into one another with practiced ease as presented their love for each other. They broke away, breath slightly deeper as they stared into one another's eyes.

"Only you would give it such a juvenile name."

"Oh, shut up and give me another one! I'm greedy!" Kelly snorted, clearly amused, but inclined her head nonetheless. It was perfect, like the last one and the one before that. It was liquid gold…perfect. But like all good things, it must come to an end.

"Momma!" The voice echoed around the small room, like a grenade shattering glass. Kelly inhaled sharply, nearly swallowing her lover's tongue. They rapidly broke apart, not caring about the string of saliva connecting their lips together. Sandra was just as quick to act, drawing the sheets that had pooled around their bare waists, reforming their cocoon of fabric. They stared, dumfounded, as Amber waved happily from her spot in Cortana's arms. The ex-AI's brows seemed to disappear behind her long bangs and her eyes twinkled mischievously like clouded sapphires.

"Are we…interrupting something?" Cortana asked cheekily. Kelly shot her an icy glare while Sandra tried her best to melt into the mattress.

"What are we inter-intra-messing up?" Amber struggled out. Kelly would have given her daughter a huge kiss for trying her best, if she wasn't mortified. Not to mention completely naked. Cortana gave her a supportive smile before giving her parents a slier version.

"I don't know. Why don't you ask them?" Amber turned to face her parents, eyes shining with intense curiosity.

"Mommy? Mother? What were you doing?" Cortana watched with glee as the two Spartans exchanged a series of gestures and hand movements in silent conversation. A dark glare from Kelly stopped Sandra mid-gesture and the blonde gave a reluctant nod. Seemingly satisfied, Kelly shifted her glare to the blue woman.

"Not a word. Understood?" Cortana just continued to smile as she placed a curious and rambunctious Amber on their bed, who immediately snuggled between her parents, missing the fact that they were completely naked underneath the sheets.

"Seems someone finally caught you, Kelly. You make a cute couple." Cortana gave them a sly wink and left the room, the veteran's glare following her until the ex-AI closed the door behind her, sealing them in silence. The familiar hum of the engines reverberated through their bones, providing the surprised super soldiers with some comfort.

"I like the robot lady. She nice." Amber spoke, cooing softly as Sandra rubbed her head.

"Yes, she is." Sandra concurred, but quickly amended her statement at the nonverbal behest of her love. "Most of the time."

Kelly threw uncomfortable glances between Amber and the bed, almost screaming _'I am_ _ **not**_ _sleeping naked!'_ Sandra nodded understandingly. Although she considered herself adventurous and quite playful, she had her limits. Taking a careful hold of the sheets, she bent down and gave her daughter a kiss on the head.

"Can you do your mother a big favor?" She asked sweetly. Amber's eyes lit up with intense joy at the thought of being able to help her parents.

"Uh huh! Uh huh!"

"Can you get me some water from the bathroom?" Amber nodded resolutely, as if this was the most important errand in the universe. She crawled off the bed and walked into the bathroom. The door didn't even fully close before she turned to Kelly and hissed 'Move!'. Kelly couldn't remember a time she had moved faster than standing stark naked in an unlocked cabin with her daughter, her very curious, innocent daughter on the other side of another unlocked door that could open at any moment. Needless to say, she was not even remotely ready for whatever questions Amber might ask. Hell, there were probably some questions she had never thought to ask herself. How was she supposed to answer questions she didn't even know to ask? _No mission objectives, indeed._

Amber came walking out, water in hand, and her mandibles drawn back in a smile. Passing the cup to her mother, she walked to the other side of the bed and raised her arms, her universal sign to be picked up. Kelly smiled and effortlessly hoisted Amber into her arms. She looked down at her lovingly, placing a tender kiss on her leathery skin. Without really realizing it, she began to scratch around the pale scales on the back of her neck, causing Amber's eyes to close in joy as she uttered soft coos and nuzzled closer to her mommy.

Sandra was, once again, taken aback by the sheer love and joy held within that twitch of a smile. Over their time apart, Sandra would often offer snippets of Sanghelili culture or biology, just in case the Spartan would ever have need of them. One of the tidbits she gave her scout was that the skin around the pale scales was somewhat sensitive for a year or so, as the body pondered what to do with them. Eventually the scales would fall off, leaving the neck bare. Sandra had wondered if she should encourage Kelly to do some of her own research, but knew how…uncomfortable it might be, even if it was for her daughter. She didn't have the best relationship with Elites, even in a diplomatic sense. It was easier to put a softball-sized hole in their chest then ask them about foreign policy with other species, but at least she was trying. Though Raha _did_ still hold a small shred of resentment towards the older veteran for almost blowing her away when they first met.

"What." Sandra smile goofily as Kelly caught her staring fondly at them, curiosity ringing strongly in the undertone of her voice.

"You make a great mother." Sandra's sincere tone was enough to make the older Spartan look away, embarrassed.

"T-thank you, Sandra." It was always exciting to see the softer side behind the soldier.

"Is it nap time?" Amber asked, struggling to keep her eyes open. Kelly's smile grew a bit larger and she placed the lovable little alien between them.

"Yes. Only for a little while." Amber nodded her head lazily before entering the world of dreams. With nothing more to do until their shifts started, and their alone time having been…interrupted, the two Spartans nestled down beside their daughter, cocooning her within their warm embrace.

 **UNSC** _ **Infinity**_ **, S-deck**

 **1300 hours**

Linda snarled as, once again, her round landed off-target. She knew it wasn't her rifle that was the problem. She had calibrated it herself after all. No, it was the operator handling the weapon that was the primary issue. Questions swirled around in her mind like a whirlpool of black ink, slowly but steadily drawing her into its depths. Her inability to reach perfection, especially behind the scope, was really starting to piss her off. Placing her rifle back on the bench, she took deep breaths through her nose, a trick she had picked up along the way. It helped quiet her mind.

Fred's voice rolled through the shooting range. "What has you so riled up?"

"I'm not."

"Your groups are _always_ perfect. That last batch was a quarter inch too far to the left." Linda silently cursed how observant Fred and the others were. Linda was a perfectionist in everything she did. From carrying out her orders to cleaning her rifle, she always did everything one hundred and fifty percent. Anything outside of her control left her feeling helpless and frustrated, or in this particular case, confused and angry. Thoroughly emotionally trembling at this point, she shoved another four rounds into the magazine with jerking, unsteady movements. Aiming down range, she pulled the trigger three times in succession. Fred's hand quickly invaded her scope, gently pushing her sniper towards the floor, causing her to pause.

"That was almost five inches apart between rounds. Go cool off. I can't have our best sniper miss her targets out there." She gave him a nod and removed the last round as he made his way over to another lane. Linda gave a small sigh.

"I'm not angry. Just…frustrated, I guess." Fred chuckle was powerful enough to be heard between the booms of his DMR.

"I know. If you were truly angry, you would have taken my hand off." Linda ignored his jab at her obsessiveness over her sniper rifle and took her leave of the shooting range, after stowing her precious _Nornfang_ safely, of course. Her boots stomped along the titanium as she made her way back to her quarters to relax for the next few hours before her next shift started.

" _Spartan 058, I have received a message for y-_ "

"Unless it has a priority, ignore it." Linda cut through Roland's announcement. _Megan._ Her mind and body had waged a bitter civil war inside her for as long as she had known the woman. Her pulse would quicken whenever the woman left her a message or talk with her. But her mind had more bitter thoughts. Not directed at Megan herself, of course, but at what she represented. A different life, an intricate one, filled with things she had been denied all throughout her own. Recently, the aqua-haired woman's messages had started to change. It was slight, but Linda saw it. What these changes entailed were unknown to the sniper, and that scared her. How was she supposed to complete an objective she didn't even know existed? Or _avoid_ completing it.

" _It does, Spartan._ "

"Fine. Put it through."

" _Already there._ " Roland replied, a smile evident in his voice, before quieting once more.

Linda quickly made her way to her quarters. She booted up her terminal as she changed, determined to get a workout in before she had to report for duty. A she pulled her top over her head, a voice caused her to momentarily freeze.

" _Linda_!?" Megan's voice rang out, surprised, and clearly not expecting to be connected. Tossing the used one to the side, the sniper donning another one from her footlocker. Modesty was never a big deal to begin with, as ever since she was little privacy had never been an option. Megan, not used to such openness, gawked as the sniper's tone musculature rippled underneath the shifting fabric. _No! Bad Megan! Bad!_ She mentally slapped herself, vigorously shaking her head to clear her less-than-faithful thoughts. She had a boyfriend after all. She went back to applying her makeup, trying very hard to keep her mind on the task at hand and _off_ the abs staring her in the face.

"Megan," she began, keeping her voice clear of any emotion. The teacher was clearly preparing for something, as her state of dress seemed more extravagant then when they usually spoke. "Why do you have a higher clearance level?" Megan paused mid-brushing to answer the sniper.

" _Uh, I have the same clearance level I have always had. Why_?" Anger flashed through her features at the woman's confused response. _Aura._ The Knight had always been a pain, but this last act was too much. She would need to have a serious talk with the Forerunner AI about bypassing security clearance whenever she felt the need.

" _What_?" Megan asked, shying away from the withering glare of the redhead.

"Nothing." Linda responded succinctly. "Why are you dressed like… _that_?"

She contentiously adjusted one of the breast cups on her dress. " _Like what?_ "

Linda gestured vaguely at her friend. "That." Megan's smile slowly flipped upside down as she couldn't seem to grasp what the Spartan was hinting at. "How are you supposed to fight in that?"

Megan chuckled. " _Fight? No, it's for a date._ " Linda's mouth twitched downward in a frown at the familiar anger welling up inside her. _She_ was Megan's protector. _She_ had the necessary skills to keep her safe like she had done so in the past. It was _her_ job, no one else's. The sniper glared at the lipstick the instructor was applying to herself, seething in silence.

With a sigh, Megan put down the stick and looked straight into the sniper's piercing green eyes. " _Alright, what gives? You have been avoiding me for the past week and a half with no reason as to why, and when you finally get a chance to talk you glare at me like I killed your pet dog._ "

"Nothing is wrong. I h-"

" _Don't give me that, Linda!_ " Megan interrupted. " _I_ _ **know**_ _something is bothering you, I wish you would just_ _ **talk to me**_ _!_ " She looked down at the counter before continuing, her voice barely above a whisper. " _I'm your friend, Linda. Or at least I hope I am. Why do insist on pushing me away?_ " If the veteran was surprised by her friend's outburst, she didn't show it. Megan waited for a response, her blue eyes pleading, hoping her friend would open up. But Linda remained silent, keeping her emotions in check, like she had been taught. _The perfect soldier._

Megan hovered over the button to disconnect the transmission, her hand shaking like a leaf. Tears welling in the back of her eyes, she looked into the sharp green eyes one last time, praying for any kind of response. Linda returned her gaze evenly, her emotions hidden behind a mask of professionalism. " _Fine_." She hissed bitterly. Her small jaw clenched repeatedly as Megan tried to search for the right words to express her frustrations. " _I have a date to get to. Someone who is willing to respond to my questions. Goodbye_." Linda watched bitterly as the connection was ended and she was left staring at a diagnostic screen. Breathing through her nose, she felt that some close quarters combat was needed, relieve some of the pent-up emotions that had been building inside since Imber.

 **Earth, Sol system**

 **Sydney, Australia-Oceania**

 **1930 hours**

"Raugh!" Megan screamed indignantly, launching another one of her pillows at the wall with a dull thump in the hopes it would meld with the metal. She was let down once again as it slid slowly to the ground as gravity pulled it back down to earth. Overcome by emotion, Megan found herself sliding down next to the object of her brief bout of anger, salty tears ruining her hard preparation for tonight's festivities. _Curse you Linda! What are you doing to me?!_

In truth, she was angrier with herself than anyone else. Her friends and coworkers would tell her time and time again, although she fell in love easily, it was often empty and she ended up worse because of it. And she _hated_ it. Her past relationships often crumbled because she saw something, some connection, that wasn't there, destroying her friendships in the process. She couldn't help herself: it was part of her personality. Too trusting, if you asked any of her past friends. Like. Infatuation. Love. Those where all words she was intensely familiar with, yet lacked any true understanding of what they actually meant. It was like she was in primary school all over again: she could solve the equation, she knew why, had a fairly good understanding of how, but was unsure if the answer she got was correct or not. And with professor brain and heart teaching the class, who knows what the answer might be?

Linda was…different. It was not her sharp green eyes, nor her unnervingly pale skin, or even her impressive muscles. _And she does have a good set of muscles- wait. Focus Megan._ Surprisingly, it was not her physical appearance that drew her attention, nor anything else that she knew about the sniper. it was what Megan _didn't_ know. The woman was an enigma. She had the emotional range of a rock, yet comforted her whenever she felt down, even if it was extremely awkward. The redhead hardly spoke, but when she did, she conveyed exactly what she wanted to say. But Linda was a Spartan. Megan had done some research. Much of it was alien to her, but she understood that they were different than normal soldiers, or even the UNSC Marine Corps special forces, the ODST's. Yet for all her strengths, Megan also saw weakness. Not in the physical sense, but she could see something behind the wall Linda put up whenever they spoke, something in her eyes. _Pain. Guilt. Anger. Loneliness._ Megan could see these things, and her heart told her to stop and help, however she could. But Linda needed a friend, not a lover, so Megan was determined to be the best friend the Spartan had ever had, even if she had to be as stubborn as the veteran.

Which brought her full circle to the predicament she was currently in. Those treacherous feelings of something stronger were sulking about in the back of her mind and she was trying her best to flush them out and smother them before they could do any real damage. _Okay. Okay, I can do this. Linda is my friend, I just need some time to cool off._ She glanced at the clock on the table nearby. _I still have another twenty minutes to get ready. I just need to reapply my makeup and enjoy this date! Oh! I have some vacation time lined up. Maybe I should take some time off to destress. It_ _ **has**_ _been a while. Maybe go the big, off-world mall I keep seeing advertisements for? What was it called again? Humanity Mall, that's right!_ With a smile on her face, Megan stood to ready herself once again, this time with a skip in her step. After tonight, things would never be the same.

 **Come Back Next Time!**

Just four words: damn you writer's block! Besides school, I had trouble trying to write this last part. I liked the way it turned out, but let me know what you think of it! I have taken a new approach to writing my chapters and I hope they will allow me to produce better ones or at least come out quicker. Don't forget to follow, favorite and review!


	5. Juice Boxes and Ice

**The Rabbit and the Wolfe**

Sorry for the long wait. School has been taking up much of my time, but I am almost done for the semester. Then, hopefully, I can give you lovely people faster updates! You have been so kind and patient. I really appreciate it. This chapter takes us to a new planet in a largely uninhabited system. Gear up and prepare to drop into some awesome action!

 **Note: the planet is pronounced Per-me-free-us**

 **05: Juice Boxes and Ice**

 **December 2, 2561**

 **UNSC** _ **Infinity**_ **, S-deck, Hangar 22B**

 **77 Polar System**

 **2145 hours**

Sandra glared at the crate like it had just insulted her dead mother. The flares returned her harsh look, the only way inanimate objects could. "Fucking snowy rock." She muttered to herself, turning and walking angrily out of the Pelican without giving the chest another look. Her purple plates shone brightly in the artificial lights of the hangar bay as she crossed the small space to her team, her boots ringing off the titanium decks. Erikson gave a friendly wave as she approached, even as he fought off a fascinated Sangheili who climbed him like a jungle gym to get to the data pad he held in his hand.

"Amber." Kelly warned. Even with her gaze focused on a table of weapons, Sandra still wondered what god-like power gave her eyes in the back of her head. Said alien crossed her arms with a pout, but climbed onto a nearby crate, where she stayed. Erikson took this moment to slip away from his adorable 'attacker' to inform Blue Team of their upcoming mission.

"Alright ladies and gents!" He began excitedly, like a child allowed to pick out a toy at the store. The faces of Blue Team turned to the table beside them that lit up with the diagram of a planet, with images floating around it like tourist attractions. "This lovely ball of ice is Permefreis. Moderately cold in the sun, at night it dips into extremely dangerous temperatures that would turn you into an armored popsicle. Or turn those Warthogs over there into four ton paperweights." He nodded towards the two tundra-camouflaged reconnaissance vehicles. With mechanical redundancies and special equipment meant to operate in extreme cold, these beasts were perfect for combat operations conducted in the most frigid battlefields. The pelican full of gear was just added insurance in case their plan went south. "The Captain had a few last-minute words for us." A few taps later and Lasky's voice rang from the table.

" _Just to reiterate, a few days ago, Roland and Aura discovered a weak signal on the UNSC's E-band originating from this planet. They were able to narrow it down to about a dozen or so kilometers, but the topographical features prevented scans from getting a more precise location."_ They area they were designated to drop into had crevasses, hills, snowdrifts, valleys and pretty much everything else that could make their trip hell. Not to mention the network of caverns that seemed to weave through it all.

"With all due respect sir, why Blue Team?" Linda asked. Fred nodded in agreement, even though Lasky couldn't see him.

" _We found this embedded in the message._ " His voice was replaced by a six-beat tone that repeated after a moment. _Oly Oly Oxen Free,_ the Spartan-II all-clear signal they used as children and had used ever since. It is their best kept secret. Only a few select individuals outside the Spartan-II's were privy to its meaning. The four veterans had a silent conversation, passing hand gestures and slight body movements that Sandra had difficulty keeping up with. Being with Kelly, she knew what it meant. But this was before her, something sacred held with the rest of her team, so she kept a respectful distance, double checking her weapons and silently scolding Amber when she tried to break the silence. Erikson looked confused, but he seemed to realize that this was a sensitive matter, so he kept his mouth shut.

"When do we leave?" Master Chief broke the silence, his visor scanning over the map, forming a plan of action.

" _As soon as you're ready, Master Chief. Good luck, Blue Team. Lasky out."_ His voice died with a _click_ as the com channel was closed.

"Gear up, Blue. I'll get the techs to load up the hogs." He quickly distanced himself from the others, directing a few techs nearby to load up the vehicles.

"Linda, you're our second pilot. Kelly, you're with me in the lead bird. Fred and Sandra, follow behind. Aircraft designations are Diamond-3 and Diamond-4." He shifted his gaze to Amber as she shifted restlessly on her crate. "Dust off in ten minutes." The soldiers dispersed, set on completing a few last-minute tasks, quickly leaving Sandra and Kelly alone.

"You know, I think Chief did that on purpose." Sandra said, mildly accusing.

"He made a sound tactical decision." Kelly responded flatly.

"Tactical, my ass." Kelly snorted in mild annoyance.

"It was. He just didn't want to hear you whining about being cold the whole way." Kelly felt her lover roll her eyes behind her visor. "Besides," The smirk on her face crept into her tone. "He didn't want a giant purple target on his back." Sandra reeled back, gasping in mock horror as she addressed her scout.

"I'll have you know that purple is a very flattering color. Especially on me!" Sandra declared, to which the veteran silently agreed. But she couldn't give up now, she was on a roll. Kelly gave her lover a quick look over, humming in thought.

"Hmm. I don't know about flattering, but it is definitely _flattening_. You can't even see those pounds you put on." Kelly's smile never disappeared as Sandra tried and failed time and again to form a response. Finally, she set on just growling like an angry puppy before sulking off towards her assigned bird. Kelly watched her go, well, watched her backside go. Side to side, swaying back and forth…

"Is mother ok?" A small, angelic voice called, pulling her mind from the gutter. Kelly rubbed her child's head with her hand, the Sangheili's body heat seeping through her suit. Amber released an adorable little noise, and nipped playfully at Kelly's titanium arm plates.

The Spartan gave a soft chuckle, enjoying the simple, unbridled joy that shined in her daughter's golden eyes. "Yes, she is fine." Amber strained her neck and nuzzled the opaque, golden visor covering her mommy's face. Oddly enough, Kelly's lack of vocal interaction did not seem to be a major issue for the child. Instead, the scout made up for it with small, caring gestures and soft-spoken words of encouragement. "Do you remember the conditions to be in here?" Amber nodded assuredly.

"Yes mommy." One of the complications of their parenting…situation was that the two of them only trusted a few people to watch after their daughter. Because they were stationed on a warship, many of those people were often busy with their duties, so the Spartans were forced to take her to meetings and other gatherings, events Amber found utterly boring. It had been explained to her that 'special' information was to be talked about during these meetings and she must _never_ repeat it to anyone else. Though her young age prevented her from understanding much of this 'special' information, she knew her parents were serious. They meant everything to her. They were her world, the center of her little universe. She was not about to disappoint them.

"Good." She gave her a few last pats on the head before standing up. Amber's mandibles were pulled backwards, the Sangheili equivalent of a human smile. "Now go find Spartan Bretts, Roland will help you." Kelly took two steps away before she felt something latch onto her leg.

"I want to go with you mommy! I want to see the snow!" Kelly sighed, crouching down to deal with the cute little leg-leech. _I swear, sometimes I have to take care of not one, but two children._

"You can't, little one." She regretted her words the instant they left her mouth as golden eyes became wet with unshed tears and her mandibles quivered, a sure sign she was about to cry. For what seemed like the umpteenth time today, she wished she had the vocal understanding of her blonde lover. _Damn it._ "But." Amber looked up, interested. "If your good, mommy promises to bring you back some snow to play with." Golden eyes sprung open, surprised. She took her mommy into a surprise hug, covering the faceplate in saliva from her spread mandibles.

"Don't let the space meanies get you!" With that, she was gone. Off to find her babysitters. _Sometimes I wonder who has more energy._ She shook her head to refocus her thoughts. _We need to find that signal. But first…_ Kelly clipped a sample capsule onto her armor. It should serve her purpose. She climbed aboard the dropship, where Chief and Erikson were waiting for her. John was impossible to read as always, but their pilot was sporting a cheeky grin.

"Wow Spartan, were you trying to French kiss a puppy? Because you lost, badly." Kelly glared at him from behind her visor.

She pointed to the cockpit, "Fly." She ordered as threateningly as she could. Erikson held up his hands in defeat, making his way to the front of the Pelican, chuckling and muttering something about 'space meanies'. _Smartass._ The dull whine of the engines climbed a tsunami-like roar as they lifted into the air. The extra weight of the warthogs didn't seem to bother the birds in the slightest as their bulky olive frames made for the frigid and barren tundra below.

 **December 3, 2561**

 **Spartan quarters**

 **0130 hours**

Tiffany was never one for loud places. She often preferred a quiet book in the corner after her shift than gambling with her fellow soldiers. Not that she was averse to socializing with her fellow Spartans, but she needed her beauty sleep as much as the next girl. That was why she was more than a little annoyed when she heard quite an animated conversation emanating from Oasis's quarters.

"What the…" She trailed off, taking in the scene. Stephen was lounging on a couch a that was a few inches too short for his large frame, reading a data pad. His eyes moved back and forth, like a sidewinder moving across the desert, absorbing every bit of data he could. His clothes were sprinkled with water droplets, the source Tiffany quickly ascertained by the squeal from across the room. Their leader seemed indifferent as their chatty battlefield tactician chased a grey blur around the room. Starr almost seemed annoyed at the constant intrusion, but ignored the noise, choosing to focus on the data pad before him.

"It's been five minutes. You want help?" He asked offhandedly, amused.

"Shut up! Like you wouldn't be soaked to the bone either!" Bretts snapped, before quickly amending his statement. "Sir." Their tactician was drenched from head to toe, suds drifting from his hair and hands as he scrambled across the room trying to catch the slippery creature. _Soaked is right…_ The thought lanced through her brain before she could stop it, hazel eyes drinking up the soldier like water in a desert. "Come on! Its shower then bed! We agreed…and your mothers left _very_ specific instructions!" _Not to mention a_ _ **very**_ _clear reminder of what would happen to me if you got hurt._ He shivered involuntarily at the thought.

"I'm not tiurd! It's not fair! Why do you get to stay up?" Came the Sangheili's response, still as naked as the day she was born.

"Because I'm an adult!" Bretts said as he leapt over a chair that he had knocked over earlier. He closed on her quickly and grabbed her arm.

"Gotcha!" He shouted triumphantly, a smile on his face. It didn't last long. With a surprised squeal, sharp enough to cut through titanium hull plating, she yanked herself free, still slick from the short shower, and dove under the couch. One that his team leader was currently occupying. "Shit!" He tried to jump the furniture, but caught his foot on the arm, sending him face first to the titanium deck. Boisterous laughter assaulted his wounded pride as he picked himself off the cold metal. The childlike giggling emanating from beneath the couch was not helping matters either.

"Glad you find my suffering so amusing, masochist." He jabbed, throwing an annoyed glare her way to emphasize his point. The raven CQC specialist snorted, clearly amused.

"Anyone would have found your landing spectacular. Real fast reflexes you got there, pal." He just waved her comment off. "What is under there anyway?" Tiffany asked, approaching her teammates.

"My charge. One who _isn't being very nice right now!_ " He responded, directing the last part to the figure holed up under Oasis's feet. The room was silent for a few moments, enough time for Tiffany to lean against the wall and raise a curious brow.

"I'm cold. But I want juice! And a story!" Patrick crouched down, reaching one of his arms under the sofa.

"Of course your cold. You're wet and laying on a metal floor. Those two don't mix well. Come out and I'll tell you a story, a good one." He smiled as he felt small fingers touch his, tentatively. _Almost there._ "Aannnddd…We can bother the kitchen staff for a juice box. Or ten." He felt her grasp his hand and he pulled Amber out and away from the cold floor. He quickly wrapped her in a towel that he seemingly pulled from thin air and rubbed her down, trying to warm up her small body. Amber pulled the towel closer around her, trying to keep the chilly air at bay. Catching sight of the woman against the wall, she shuffled behind Oasis's tactician, as seeing new people was always nerve-wracking to the young Sangheili. Noticing the uncertainty flowing through the young girl's eyes, Bretts decided to interject.

"Don't mind her. She doesn't bite." Amber could see the woman shake her head behind him. "I'll be right back, then we can get your juice." He stood up, and gave his teammate a look that screamed ' _play nice'_. An uncomfortable silence stretched between the three as Bretts disappeared into the bathroom. Well, at least for two of them; their team leader seemed completely uninterested in what was going on. Tiffany was not keen on talking with the little alien so she kept quiet. Unfortunately, Amber's natural curiosity won out after a few minutes of confused staring.

"Are you like my mommies?"

"Kid, I don't even know who your parents are." Came the specialist's annoyed reply. She had hoped to end the conversation there, but it seemed to have the opposite effect.

"Well they're about this big…" Amber struggled to raise her arm to her parents' height, while using the other to hold her towel in place.

"Listen, kid I don't think you understand what-" She was interrupted by Amber as the young girl talked animatedly about her parents. The specialist tried multiple times to get her to quiet down, but her attempts were pushed aside as the Elite continued to rave about her parents. Beyond annoyed, she blocked out the child's tales as best she could, leveling one of her fiercest glares at the still closed bathroom door.

"Bretts!" She barked, still seething from the little annoyance that wouldn't leave her alone. And to think, she originally came here to catch up on some sleep! The spartan poked his head around the corner, a telltale grin written on his face. _The bastard did it on purpose!_ Tiffany glowered at him as he made his way out of the bathroom.

"Sorry, had to use the facilities." He said apologetically, passing a cheeky grin to his teammate, who just snorted in response. He helped the small saurian get dressed, making quick work of a task often wrought with annoyance and barely contained frustration. _He makes everything seem so easy, doesn't he? And he does it all with a smile on his face._ Tiffany presented a small smile to the man's back. It was strange that a half ton soldier could be so good with children, but yet again, it wasn't. Patrick just made everything he did seem so effortless and natural. Maybe that was what had drawn her to the teal tactician in the first place. But a relationship, no matter what kind, does not move without input. So the Asian specialist sought to make the first move.

"Bretts, I-" She stopped suddenly as the door to their shared quarters opened with a hiss, and the intruder stepped into the small room. Major Reilcat moved with expert efficiency, a level that could only be obtained through years of rigorous training, until it becomes second nature to your muscles. The green in his eyes seemed muted, but still sharp and intuitive and his once vibrant hair had turned a mottled grey with age. The Spartans scrambled to their feet and saluted smartly, which were curtly returned.

"Spartan Starr, I must speak with you concerning an important matter." The Fireteam leader nodded solemnly, while the other two Spartans exchanged confused looks. "Immediately." The command spurred the other members of Oasis into action, scooping Amber into his arms, he indicated for Tiffany to collect the young girl's things. The Major looked upon the alien with contempt and disgust, not bothering to hide his disposition, as he waited to talk to Oasis's leader in private. But his time was precious and he was not one to wait.

"Move, Spartans. And take that disgusting little monster with you." Bretts tightened his hold around Amber, as he stared defiantly back at his superior officer, neck muscles straining to hold his tongue down. Amber was the sweetest and most inquisitive child he had ever met, his family notwithstanding, and never deserved such harsh treatment. From anyone. But he was a superior, so he kept his mouth shut. But that did not stop Amber. She let loose a guttural growl, the likes of which echoed across forgotten battlefields littered with corpses. The dreaded sound made his spine shiver as he remembered cramped engagements against imposing and enraged predators. He was so wrapped up in the young girl's image that he often forgot what species she descended from.

Reilcat smiled at her, with a sort of amused look, like one you would give a duckling trying to jump a small ledge to follow its mother. Nakamura came up beside him loaded with toys and clothes, and the trio quickly made their way for the door. Amber snapped angrily at him, splitting her mandibles in a show of force. Bretts had to tighten his hold further to prevent her from sinking her teeth into the Major's arm. It was a struggle, but they eventually made their way into the hall, the door sealing behind them with a telltale hiss.

"Are you alright?" Bretts asked, concerned. Amber held her glare for a few seconds more before deflating into his hold, utterly exhausted.

"It's hard being mean to people. Why can't we all get along?" The two Spartans were momentarily struck speechless by such a profound and meaningful statement, even if the spokeswoman herself didn't realize it.

"That is a very good question. One you can ask your parents, after they get back." _Hoping they don't kill me first._ He suppressed the foreboding image and took off at a brisk walk to the nearest mess hall, Tiffany hot on his heels.

"For a munchkin, you aren't half bad." Tiffany smirked as she glanced over at the young saurian. She had passed out and was drooling from her mandibles. She chuckled softly, amused, at the admittingly adorable sight. Patrick really did look like a caring father. They walked in silence into the mess hall, where the two of them had to practically threaten the corpsman in charge that the seven circles of hell would descend upon him in the form of a very thirsty, cranky six-year-old saurian if he did not give up the ten juice boxes Bretts promised her. In the end, they left with an entire dozen juice boxes, leaving a very pale, frightened corporal behind, muttering prayers behind the counter.

"She is quite cute. For a squid." Bretts snorted. She clearly was in for a rude awakening.

"Sure. I just hope you aren't protective of your hair. Long locks fascinate her." Patrick laughed quietly as some of the color drained from the specialist's face as they made their way to a communal sleeping area. The next few days were going to be interesting.

 **Permefreis Surface**

 **Unidentified Ice Shelf**

 **0630 hours**

The warthog exited the out of the cavern into the early morning light with a throaty roar, propelling the three occupants up the small snow back to the mesa above. The temperature was still well below freezing, but the sky bore a calm beauty that was seldom seen anywhere else. Snowflakes floated through the swirling air, creating intricate patterns, almost like miniature figure skaters. Even though the dangerous extremes of the night had risen to an acceptable level, you could still make out the purple and violet aurora in the upper atmosphere. It was a beautiful winter wonderland, one taken right out of a children's vid. But they three soldiers were not there to take in the sights. They had a mission to complete.

"Hold up." Fredric called out over the wind. Sandra eased the M12B LRV to a standstill near a precipice overlooking a pot marked plateau below. He stepped down from his seat behind the LAAG, making the short walk to the edge of the cliff. The next step would be a doozy. His helmet shifted side to side, searching for something. "Any word from Infinity or Diamond-3?"

" _Negative_." Linda's response from the passenger seat echoed over the TEAMCOM. _Yet we received the location of the signal source._ Their current destination was a floating marker about 4 klicks away and almost a klick straight down, hidden among the tunnels and crevasses that weaved through the icy tundra before them like the web of a spider.

" _Storms and geographic features are playing hell with our coms."_ Sandra piped up from the driver's seat.

"I don't like it _."_ Fred stated, voicing the doubts that he was unable to push from his mind. Sandra had to agree with him. It was a little _too_ convenient how they couldn't get a signal from the ship nor the Master Chief, yet they had the source of the mysterious UNSC signal. Though still unsettled, Fred climbed back behind the chaingun. He always felt better with a weapon in his hands. Sandra waited till their team leader was secure before hitting the gas, the large tires spraying the area behind them with a fine, snowy mist. The 3.5-ton mechanical beast rumbled down the cliff pathway, traversing the uneven, slippery terrain with ease. It took them almost half an hour to make their way onto the empty white expanse. Spotting an entrance to the maze of tunnels below, she stopped once again.

"Sir, do we go below now or try to find an entrance closer to the signal?" Sandra asked. Fred weighed his options. Yes, the caves would be safer, but their winding tunnels would force them to slow to a more manageable pace, and without communications, it was a risky move. But moving across the plateau would leave them exposed to the enemy. They had encountered nothing bigger than a snowflake, but Fred was not one to take chances, even more so when the lives of his team was on the line. Overconfidence lead to complacency, and in the Spartans' line of work, complacency lead to death.

"The Infinity is exposed waiting for us. We don't have the time to deal with the tunnels, Spartan. Especially with the enemy on the move." Sandra's status light winked green once in acknowledgement and gunned the beast, the engine roaring in excitement. The three soldiers were completely oblivious to the two pairs of eyes that followed from a distance, both closing in on the source of the signal.

* * *

Kelly stared at the sapphire wall of frozen water with a mix of frustration and contempt. After triangulating the source of signal with the help of the Infinity, they had quickly weaved their way through the massive maze of tunnels, hills and crevices to reach the supposed source of the signal. Only it was not a UNSC beacon, it was a wall of bloody ice! _Is it behind the ice?_ She wondered idly. It would make sense, but without knowing how thick it was, there was no way the two of them could blow into it without damaging whatever created the signal or bring the roof down on their heads. _Neither of which is a good idea._ Chief had tried to scan the ice, moving through all of his filters. He had come up with nothing. Whatever was behind, or in, that wall was preventing any close-range scans from penetrating.

"Options?" Chief asked, walking up beside her.

"Short of blowing it open, were stuck here." He nodded understandingly. "Any word from Fred or the Infinity?" A shake of his head confirmed what she already thought: their coms were completely useless on this planet. _Well that's just bloody fantastic. Wait. What was that?_ It was faint, almost beyond her range of hearing, but it was very distinct: the sound of cracking ice.

"Chief." She said warningly. He turned his head towards her, then followed it to the ceiling. Unclamping the AR from his back as softly as he could, he pointed it up towards the source of the noise and moved to the outskirts of the frozen cavity. The small cracks rapidly expanded as the ice began to buckle, as if they were trying to race each other to their own destruction. A few more tense moments passed, as the Spartans waited calmly for the ice above their heads to fail, exposing anything above them to a storm of hot lead. Then the roof collapsed, in spectacular fashion. Like someone had dropped a grenade into an ice-covered lake, the chunks were blown downward by a massive tire, quickly followed by the rest of the vehicle. The heavy body plowed through the relatively fragile ceiling, sending it into a nosedive. It careened into the icy floor at almost 60 miles per hour, its 'tusks' digging into the liquid crystal in a vain attempt to stop its own momentum. It cared little for its passengers as they were ejected from the warthog. Two rolled across the slippery surface before sliding into nearby walls while the third occupant cartwheeled through the air before imbedding into the solid water surface, her velocity causing a massive network of cracks to explode outward.

"Owwww…" Sandra moaned as the mist began to clear. The warthog lay upside down and one of the 'tusks' was missing, sheared off from the force of the roll. Kelly glanced around at the sound of the familiar voice. Chief gave her a quick nod while Fred and Linda picked themselves up, no worse for wear. But where was her pup? Then she saw her…and was forced to mute her external mics to maintain her status as a stoic Spartan-II. She had to lean against a pillar, as her lungs cried desperately for air. Tears peeked out from behind her eyelids. The love of her life had been thrown against the wall with such force she had practically _fused_ with it. "I say this with the utmost respect, sir, but that was the stupidest fucking plan I have ever participated in. Ever." Fred unslung his DMR, shaking his head.

"Jealousy can be a nasty thing." Fred said, a smile in his voice.

"As if!" Sandra shot back.

"Kelly, free her. We need to get through that ice." Master Chief interjected, silencing the conversation. The scout took a few calming breaths to reign in her laughter before approaching her trapped teammate. Wrapping her strong hands around the purple Spartan's shoulders, she pulled with all her might, but with little success. If anything, the ice just seemed to pull her in further. Perhaps she couldn't pull her free, but if she _pushed…_ As if a lightbulb went off in her head, she unslung _Oathsworn_ from its magnetic home and slammed it into the ice. Though the ice was beginning to fracture along its natural fault lines, it didn't take long to realize she would damage her precious weapon long before she would free Blue 5.

"Damn." She huffed, replacing her shotgun back in its cradle. She could see the ice slowly collapsing under the weight of the armored human, yet it still had enough of its structure to hold together. It was frustrating! But as a few splinters of ice tumbled to the floor, she picked up on the soft sound of whistling wind. It only took a quick assessment to determine it was coming from behind the wall of ice. That only happened if there was air trapped behind it, which meant it was hollow. Rolling her shoulders a few times to loosen the tension in her muscles, she punched the ice as hard as she could. Her fist obliterated all of the frozen liquid in its way, exiting the other side with minimal resistance. What happened next could only be recreated in an action vid. Sustaining far more punishment than it could, the ice collapsed all at once like a raging waterfall, sending chunks skittering across the slick floor and throwing snow into the air around them. Leaving Sandra to pull herself from the rubble, she turned around to find that both warthogs had been repositioned so that they were facing what her scans told her were deeper into the network of tunnels.

"Chief." Linda called out, nodding in Kelly's direction. John looked away from the warthogs, his gaze shooting right past their scout. Turning around once more, a dark grey, almost black, metal wall greeted her, seamlessly blending with the ice around it. But this one was clearly human in origin, as she recognized the design almost instantly. Linda and the others approached the wall, Sandra now stood to the side, battle rifle at the ready. Kelly tried to run a scan of what lay beyond the wall, but once again could not penetrate the titanium walls.

"So, it wasn't the ice that was blocking our scans." Sandra mused openly. What the UNSC structure was doing there and what it was being used for was anyone's guess.

"Our objective is beyond. We need a way through. Chief commandingly ordered. Though what lay beyond was well hidden, their objective was clearly marked. Just shy of 200 meters in front of them was their waypoint, bouncing happily, relishing in the fact it was able to torment the human soldiers.

"The ice is too thin above us to use explosives. The ceiling would collapse on our heads." Fred responded.

"Shooting it would be a waste of ammo." Linda added.

"I could cut through it. Like I did with the Pelican." Sandra spoke, hopeful. Chief shifted to look at her, weighing his options. _Technically_ , she was still a civilian, so she really shouldn't be there in the first place. But she felt like such an integral part of the team, that at this point he felt like she had always been a part of Blue Team, even if she wasn't on the official roster. But that was beside the point. They needed through this wall and Sandra had a viable option. He tossed about his uncertainty for a few seconds more before giving a sharp nod.

"Do it." Sandra ignited the self-contained plasma, coalescing into the jagged, blood-red shape the Spartans of Blue Team had become familiar with. Sparing only a glance to make sure her teammates were not standing in the way, she plunged the blades deep into the metal. The titanium seemed to writher in agony as the boiling hot plasma dug into it layer by layer, eating away at the alloy. They cast a chilling, but familiar glow that illuminated the cavern around them, bathing the soldiers in deep shades of red. Almost as if the ice itself was on fire. _Beautiful,_ Kelly thought as she crouched down to scoop some of the fallen snow into the capsule she had brought along. Reclipping it to her waist, she readied her shotgun in one fluid motion.

Master Chief pressed his own weight against the heavy wall, slowly dislodging it centimeter by centimeter. The metal scraped noisily against its housing as the two Spartans pushed it inward. Moving to cover them, the rest of Blue team aimed their weapons down the slowly emerging entrance, fingers hovering beside the triggers, steady but filled with anticipation. White greeted them once more as the Spartans spread out through the newly discovered room. It appeared to be a laboratory of some sort, though what sort of research was conducted here was unknown. Though the color was quite standard for instillations such as this, the smell of antiseptic and the agonizingly bright lights created a detached, almost sterile environment. It reminded Sandra of a hospital. _Or a morgue_ , her mind added unhelpfully. Her teammates seemed to have similar thoughts, as they gave the equipment a wide berth.

None of them gave the room a second glance as they moved out into the hall. The lights remained lit, in all their eye burning glory, so the facility still had power. They moved seamlessly from room to room, using hand signals and status lights to follow orders and convey their findings. It was slow going, but better slow than dead. So far, they had not discovered another soul. Whatever this place was, it had been abandoned long ago, as given by the amount of dust that had built up in some of the rooms. What or _whomever_ restored power had done so recently. But they were making progress, the waypoint was now less than 25 meters away, obscured by another door.

As they approached, Chief pumped his fist twice, the signal to prepare. Stacking up along the wall, Chief nodded to Fred, who was the nearest to the controls. This was it. The source of the signal originated from behind this door. He reached for the panel, but the door slid open with a soft hiss before his hand even made it halfway. Surprised, Chief nonetheless signaled his team to move in. The five soldiers burst into the room, their armored boots rumbling across the titanium floor like muted thunder.

"Took the UNSC long enough to send someone." A commanding, self-assure voice spoke from the corner of the room, attracting the soldiers' weapons. But they didn't seem phased. Chief could even see the beginnings of a smirk tug at their lips.

 **Come Back Next Time!**

Dun dun dun! Cliffhanger! I'm so evil. Muhahaha! If you know who it might be, please don't spoil the surprise for others. Now that school is over, I will be able to get chapters up faster. Correction: I **should** be able to. Hope you enjoyed this chapter and sorry it took me so long. Please don't forget to favorite, follow and review! Till we meet again, fellow Halo fans!


	6. Charlie Hotel

**The Rabbit and the Wolfe**

Here we go with another chapter! Not really much in the way of an author note this time, just that I am sorry this took me so long to get out. Please favorite, follow, and leave a review! Without further ado, enjoy the newest installment in the Rabbit and the Wolfe!

 **06: Charlie Hotel**

 **December 3, 2561**

 **Permefreis Surface**

 **Classified ONI Facility, Unidentified Ice Shelf**

 **0830 hours**

Dr. Catherine Halsey, the creator of the SPARTAN-II program and the closest thing any of the surviving II's might consider a mother figure. At the ripe age of 69, she was still a force to be reckoned with, both inside and outside of ONI. She inspired as much respect as she did hate. She had been called many things, not all of them pleasant. But she had endured their remarks, because, after all, where would humanity be without her 'dubious' moral practices and her 'needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few' philosophy. Her Spartans towered over her, but they followed her directions like they would any other orders, unless they directly conflicted with a superior officer's. She had known them almost their entire lives and while she did not consider herself a parent, per se, she could say with complete confidence that no one alive knew her Spartans better than she did.

"John. Fred. Linda. Kelly." She greeted, giving each of them a quick once-over. She knew they could take care of themselves, but she wanted to be sure. The four soldiers twitched uncomfortably at their names being presented in the open, even if there was no one else around. _Glad to see something can still get under their skin._ She noted a fifth Spartan standing beside Kelly, her purple armor clashing horribly with the white, grey, and the myriad of blues that surrounded them, but ignored her. She resumed typing away at the display before her, making a note to keep any further details about her Spartans close to the chest.

"Sorry Doctor. Fred's driving has always been terrible." Linda spoke from the back of the room. _That_ caught her by surprise. They had never been this candid with each other when anyone but her or the other Spartans had been in the room. Even more confusing was that the new Spartan seemed completely unfazed by the banter around her. As if it was a daily occurrence. Before, she was mildly curious, if that. Now? She was interested. Fred flashed her an obscene gesture to which she returned in equal measure.

"Ma'am," Chief interjected, most likely agitated from being idle. "What's your status?" Her mouth twitched downward for a split second before reverting to a focused half-smile. Another drop of guilt in the bucket. And the bucket was harder to carry with each passing day.

"How were you able to track my location?"

"The _Infinity_ picked up a weak UNSC transmission on the E-band."

"I am guessing you couldn't get a lock on the location because of the weather and geographical features?" She tapped a few more keys while she waited for a response.

"No ma'am. We had to triangulate your location." Halsey let out a short sigh.

"The extreme temperatures disabled the craft I used to get here." She continued before John could issue any orders. "Don't bother salvaging it. I scuttled it days ago." John rested his hand back on his rifle as the others listened intently. "ONI is as incompetent as ever. They make a mess and send someone else to clean it up." Typical. The spooks that originally wiped the data did such an atrocious job, she was surprised they weren't charged with war crimes. And as usual, they pulled her from important work, without telling her a damned thing, and wasting her time. They could have sent one of their spooks or, hell, even an intern! But no! they had to send _her_ to do what equated to manual labor! She hit the keys with more force than necessary. Though it wasn't actually speeding up the process, it was cathartic. An alert flashed on her display, one she quickly dismissed. She didn't need the interruptions. The proximity alarm had been triggered. While it was mostly something of little consequence, she knew her Spartans hated surprises.

"John." She called without removing her eyes from the display. "The proximity alarm has been tripped."

"Is there location with a good vantage point?"

"Out that door." She pointed to a door in the opposite corner nestled between multiple computer systems. "Second right. It's an upward slope until you reach the door at the end. Opens up to a secluded cave overlooking the pass below." John nodded understandingly.

"Exfil options?" Fred questioned.

"Only two: Through the motor pool or into the tunnels." Fred cast a worried glance towards the others, not enjoying either option.

"Then we move now." John ordered. The quicker they got moving, the easier it would be to repair this fraying cord of a mission.

"No, John. I am not leaving here until I finish my work." Halsey commanded, leaving no room for argument. For a second it looked like the he was going to defy her orders, but in the end, he relented. They still had some time to prepare. It was up to him to make the most of it.

"Fred, Linda, double check our transportation. See if there is a way to move them to the motor pool. Then see if you can find a vacuum suit for the Doctor. Prioritize air supply and protection." With a nod from each, they jogged back the way they came. "Sandra, get me eyes on whatever tripped the proximity alarms." Her light winked green once in affirmation as she dashed towards the door Dr. Halsey had pointed out. It was eerily silent so far into the facility, where the howling winds and torrential blizzards could not penetrate. Kelly shifted from foot to foot, impatient. While she enjoyed the quiet, especially when she shared it with a particularly cheeky blonde, the room felt _empty_ , even with machines that hummed like cicadas in the background. Like there was a topic Dr. Halsey was keen to ask, and the scout had a good idea as to what it was

"Didn't figure you the babysitting type, Kelly." _There it is,_ her mind shouted sardonically.

"I'm not." She responded evenly, keeping her tongue on a tight leash.

"Then who is she? I'm curious." With Halsey, it was never just idle curiosity or pure mental indulgence, at least, not anymore. There was always a reason behind the question, like one of Chief Mendez's 'exercises', it always came with a surprise. She had always been a woman that was quick to the point, determining the most important facts then concluding her business. This seemingly immense shift in her personality set the scout on edge.

 _What is she after?_ She pondered, trying to determine the best way to answer the question without giving any of their 'history' away. Who knows what Dr. Halsey would think of _that._ "Spartan Wolfe is an excellent asset to this team." There. Professional, while still showing her pup in a positive light.

Halsey glanced away from her display, scrutinizing 087 with a careful eye. "Is that so? Interesting." Her cryptic remark doing little to ease the confusion building within the Spartan's augmented bones. Kelly wished to continue this conversation by this was neither the time nor place to do so. Having no orders to act on, she nestled into a corner of the room, keeping one eye on her motion tracker. Oathsworn was cradled within her arms as the TEAMCOM crackled to life.

" _Chief?"_ The concern in Sandra's voice instantly put the scout on edge, erasing her calm demeanor from the moment before. His status light flashed once, signaling that he was listening. " _Did the Infinity send any other teams?"_

"No." Chief's response was almost blotted out by the sound of a bolt being cycled.

" _Then we have a problem."_

"Explain."

" _Two groups encroaching on our position, one Covenant, the other… Human. They haven't spotted me yet, but I see light armor moving with the column._ _They don't look to be slowing either. Maybe they traced the signal, same as us?"_ For the Covenant, that would make sense. As for the human element…that was more troubling. As far as they knew, there were no other UNSC vessels in-system, so a column with light armored support could mean the _Infinity_ was in trouble. It might be a reason as to why they could not contact the flagship. But conjecture would get them nowhere. John had to act, they needed a plan of action.

"Fred, Linda, status?"

" _Suit secured. Warthogs moved to the motor pool, refueled and ready to deploy."_ Fred declared over the channel.

" _Tried to hail Diamond-3. Walls are too heavily shielded to get a signal through."_ Linda added. Well that complicated their mission. But Spartans specialized in complicated missions.

"Blue 2 and 3, return to my position." Green lights acknowledged his order as he turned to Halsey. "The enemy is approaching. How much longer?"

"Five minutes to wipe the data and set a self-destruct countdown." John had worked with tighter timetables in the past. John didn't want the enemy to know someone was here, but it was a moot point. They would be on top of them shortly and would just have to work that much harder to fight their way through. John took a calming breath. _Time to mix things up a little._

"Sandra, engage once they are in range. Covenant only, prioritize at will. Engage the other column only if fired upon." He turned to Kelly, who stood there, almost twitching in anticipation. "Motor pool. You're driving." She saluted crisply, sprinting down the corridor Fred and Linda had taken less than an hour before. This ball of ice just got a hell of a lot hotter.

* * *

Lasky stared out of the large windows of the bridge and to the stars beyond, a bored expression hanging on his face like moss on a stone. Commander Palmer stood beside him, her deep brown eyes shining with much more passion than this boring task ever warranted. But he had to hand it to the Spartan: she is an amazing Commander and an even better friend. He just wished she wouldn't take something as boring as frigate reactor analysis so seriously. It was about as entertaining as watching paint dry and took even longer to complete. He would have gladly taken a nap if the Commander would stop elbowing him in the side.

"Roland, what's the status on Blue Team?" He asked, trying to distract himself from the analysis, which had slowed to a crawl. The Commander shot him a glare for trying to distract himself from an important task, but just shrugged and continued to stare out into the starlit void.

" _Unknown. The storms and topographical features are preventing any stable communications. We likely won't hear from them again until they break atmosphere."_ The AI responded amicably. " _Sir, they have completed their analysis and are reporting no discernible problems. They are requesting your permission to bring the reactor to full power, just to be safe."_

"Permission granted." Lasky commanded, eager to get this over with. He tapped his foot impatiently as he watched the energy readouts as the reactor slowly climbed to sufficient power. Ever since Imber, the URF cell leader had been disturbingly quiet. Beyond scattered attacks around the system, there had been no major acts of aggression. They were obviously waiting. _But for what?_ There were too many targets and opportunities. All they had to go on was the fact they were targeting the UNSC, Spartans in particular. Without more intel, it was hopeless. All they could do was wait for another event. The mere fact they had to wait for the enemy to strike just to gather more information sent chills down his spine. So many lives would be wasted. He released a regretful sigh, one that earned him another glare from Palmer.

"Sir!" A nearby technician cried from his terminal, clearly trying not to panic. "I'm detecting a massive radiation spike coming from inside the ship!"

"What?!" Palmer snapped, her confident expression faltering almost instantly.

"Then shut the engines down!" His command was heard by entire bridge as the technician swiped some precipitation from his brow, typing in commands so fast his fingers were but a tan blur on the display. Shouts and curses rang out across the bridge as the officers worked frantically with the technicians aboard the vessel to bring the situation under control. Lasky watched the readings continue to climb, helplessness stirring deep in his gut. The men and women of the _Infinity_ looked on, horrified, as they watched 75 souls extinguished in a second.

A pinprick, white as the heavens above, heralded the end for the poor souls trapped on the bedeviled frigate. At the center was a series of reactions, changing and modifying different elements to form a new substance, while giving off heat as a byproduct. But these were not due to the normal functions of the drive, nor were they an unstable nuclear reaction as the engines went critical. No, this was not natural, or even mechanical. This instant, this white messenger of death was so much worse: it was intentional. A cut-down SHIVA nuclear missile, stolen from a UNSC supply depot. Perfected over the centuries, the thermonuclear weapon had a brutal and vindictive history which was only bolstered by the Human-Covenant War. The massive blast tore through the super-hard casing in a nanosecond, the sheer amount of heat and fire tearing through the Titanium-A plating like a vicious predator. It vaporized everything in its path, including the poor technicians, whose deaths were mercifully painless. The two nuclear reactions met in an incredibly violent manner as the magnetic containment fields that protected the craft's fusion drive were rendered useless, boosting the yield almost seven-fold.

The entire flagship rolled and shuddered as the shockwave slammed into bow of the ship, activating its shielding. The golden luminescent energy radiated with a fervent intensity as nuclear fire washed over its frame, overloading sensitive sensor equipment and raising the internal temperature of the ship by a few degrees. Inside, technicians, scientists, and soldiers alike were thrown from their beds and work, bouncing around their titanium home like poorly inflated basketballs. A few unfortunate souls were crushed by 60 tons of Scorpion tank that had been knocked loose from its housing, spraying its olive undercarriage in a gory red collage. Suddenly, the lights died, as the EMP lanced through the weakened shields, throwing the entire vessel into darkness that matched the blackness of space around them. Systems were thrown into emergency shutdown one after the other to preserve their integrity, like refugees taking shelter from a building storm.

Sparks from the damaged monitors threw a soft orange glow like the candles of centuries long past. Shadows pulsed in time with the sporadic showers, dancing to the beat of the dark. Lasky pushed himself off the floor as his vision began to clear.

"Everyone alright?" He asked, wiping away the liquid that trickled down his forehead. He didn't need a medic to tell him that he was injured. His throbbing skull told him all that he needed to know. "Roland, what hell happened?" There was no response from the AI.

"Delmire is dead. The rest have only minor injuries." Palmer reported dutifully.

"Roland?" Lasky questioned the Commander. He couldn't see her face, or anything beyond his hands without the glow from the showers of sparks, but his gut was telling him he wouldn't like the answer.

"No response. His systems may still be rebooting or the blast could have damaged his core." AI's had multiple redundancies to prevent this kind of blackout. But detailed look at the AI's core could wait till later. Right now, he to ensure the safety of his crew.

"Damage report!" He called out.

"Coms are down, we're deaf!" One officer responded.

"Sensors are either scrambled or rebooting. It will take a few hours for them to come back online."

"Engines are on lockdown until the heat and radiation levels return to normal. I have no idea about lights."

"MAC's are cycling back up. We still have control of most of the missiles though, Captain." The weapons officer added. _Great. For the time being we are deaf, blind, defenseless and dead in the water. Not to mention…where is the emergency lighting?_

"Where are the emergency lights?" Palmer asked as she pulled a fellow crew member to her feet, voicing his thoughts. "They should have come on by now." Sure enough, the red glow of the emergency lights never sprang to life as they normally would. They were floundering around in the dark like babies learning to walk, bumping into one another and shouting curses as they tripped over objects hidden in the shadows. A resounding bang from the other end of the corridor filtered through the bridge doors, halting the bridge crew in their tracks. They stood there in confused silence as the last echoes of the sound faded into the silence that hung around them. Lasky felt something cool and heavy being pushed into his hand. _'Just in case'_ the Commander's eyes spoke, each word falling as heavily upon his mind as the Magnum felt in his grip. The bark of a battle rifle broke the stillness that had gripped the bridge for the past few minutes. Followed by another. Then a third. At first, Lasky thought it might have been the Covenant. Or pirates. But this attack was too sudden, too coordinated.

"Tom?" He was pulled from his thoughts by Sarah's stern voice. They needed to figure out what was going on, and holing up on the bridge wasn't going to help.

"Listen up," He paused a moment as another shower of sparks threw a muted orange glow onto all of the faces looking to him. "Someone or something is attacking this ship. Our home. This cannot stand. Even if we were to stay here and wait till power is restored, who knows what kind of damage they could do." He didn't even know who "they" were, or if there was even more than one, but right now he did not care in the slightest. His primary duty was to ensure the safety of his crew. As he spoke, Palmer marched over to a nearby weapons locker, her armor brushing aside the sharp metal scraps like shavings in the wind. Hitting the release, she outfitted herself with an AR and a few spare magazines. Looking to his XO, he continued. "Tekes, the bridge is yours. If anyone comes knocking that isn't me or the Commander, don't open it up. Shepards, Wilkes, Yuma, you're coming too." The three officers nodded and slowly made their way to the nearby locker, which glowed like a beacon of hope in the shattered remains around them. The scouting party made their way to the door, Palmer naturally taking point due to her larger frame and largely bullet-resistant armor. The door slowly opened to reveal a corridor just a black as the room they had come from. Activating their flashlights, they slowly crept into the hall, the bright beams slicing through the dark like swords. The doors shut behind them with a quiet hiss and locked with a solid _thunk._ They were on their own. _Now, time to figure out what the hell happened._ With a whisper, their party moved further away from the safety of the bridge.

 **UNSC** _ **Infinity,**_ **S-deck**

 **In orbit above Permefreis**

 **Spartan Quarters**

 **0900 hours**

"Where the hell is Starr?!" Nakamura yelled over the pounding booms of her MD6. One of the rounds tore through a soldier's neck, splitting it open like a Sangheili's jaw, throwing bits of throaty tissue onto the armor of those that stood beside him. Undeterred, his warm body was trampled and left to rot in the titanium grave as the others continued to kill anything that moved. They moved quickly in the dark, slaying indiscriminately, the only sign of their presence were the muzzle flashes and the haunting afterimage it produced. A terrifying image of faceless, _soulless_ hunters that resembled more machine than any living creature. Or at least one who had any sense of moral standing. Tiffany ducked back into the room and hit the door release hard enough to crack the display, sealing the occupants inside. Moments later the door was pounded by the sustained fire of an assault rifle. She could hear the _rat-tat-tat-tat_ each round made as it left the chamber, almost like some of the weapons shown on old vids her parents always watched. It was almost comical. A laugh bubbled in the back of her throat, but she choked it down. Now was not the time for a trip down memory lane.

Bretts, for his part, had a much more difficult task: to calm a sobbing Amber. Her tears stained his shirt, turning the gray material almost black, but he did not care. His only concern the tiny child he held in his arms. _At least she is quiet._ His mind consoled. The sentiment was small, but at least his hearing was spared. The sporadic fire outside the room quadrupled in intensity as the killers had obviously found a more pressing target to engage, their presence temporarily forgotten.

"I'm scared. I want mommy and mother." Amber cried, almost pleaded, softly. Patrick just rubbed her back and offered hollow reassurances, his guilt rising steadily like a tidal wave with each false promise he uttered.

"Your parents aren't here, kid." Tiffany said unhelpfully from across the room. Bretts didn't say anything, but she knew he was glaring at her as new tears poured from misty golden orbs. He was always the hopeful and cheery one. Sometimes, he needed a kick from reality to get him back in line. She shrugged off his glare like water off a duck's back, returning her attention to the more hazardous possibility. She could reconcile with him later. Three dull _thumps_ shook the room, knocking a few pieces of the fabricated furniture to the floor with a clatter.

A confident voice, muffled by the door, but still recognizable reached her ears. "Spartan Nakamura, the coast is clear. Open the door." By the command of her fireteam leader she opened the door to the room. Or tried to. In her rush to close the door, she had damaged the controls, preventing it from returning to its former position. Dimly, she heard Bretts move behind her, but paid them little mind.

"Door controls are busted, sir. Were locked in," It was a few moments before he responded.

"Rodger that, Spartan. Help me open this door." With some effort, the two Spartans were able to pry the protesting metal open far enough for him to allow his armored frame to fit through. Standing in the darkness with only his helmet lights illuminating their quarters, she brought him up to speed. The lights followed the movement of his head as he nodded in understanding. They needed a plan. He handed her a shotgun he had procured from a nearby weapons rack. The specialist practically tore it from his grasp, her face split with a giddy smile like a kid on Christmas Day. A six-foot child. With a major chip on their shoulder. Who now held an 8-gauge toy that could put a softball sized hole through an Elite's chest, armor or no. Her smile shifted into something much more wicked as she swiped offered ammo and grenades.

"The entire ship is in disarray. We need to get to the armory, get your armor. Oasis needs to make a stand." His commander's words rang true. There would have been some word from Captain Lasky or Roland by now. The silence was troubling. Like the ocean swells inside a storm, the contents of his stomach swirled around, unsettled at the events unfolding around him. A soft whimper drew their attention to the body clinging to his chest, tremors shaking her grey skin at every distant noise.

"I agree, sir. Wholeheartedly. But we can't leave her here." He let the rest of his sentence go unfinished as Amber was frightened enough as it was. He was silent as he gazed down upon the pair, trying to think of a response. With a defeated sigh, he crouched down, giving a few quick pats to reassure the shivering Amber.

"We can't take her _with us_ either." Bretts agreed. She would slow them down, not to mention the extra effort all three Spartans would have to put forth to protect her. Effort that could better be used in other ways. Like breaking bones and pulling triggers. It was a risk they just couldn't afford to take. Bretts made up his mind.

"Think you can cover us for a few minutes?" Stephen scoffed, as if saying ' _I have been'_. Retrieving his battle rifle from the floor, he trotted over to the door. "Think you could toss me her bag?" He asked, only to be nearly knocked to the ground as a large duffel bag bounced off his back. Grunting under his breath, Patrick yanked open the bag and began rummaging through its contents, throwing them haphazardly to the floor. Peeking one curious gold eye out from her warm cradle, her jaws split open in horror. Her things littered the floor like paper going through an industrial shredder. What kind of person could do such a thing?! To think that she had trusted him!

"You…you…MEANIE!" She raged, pounding her little fists on his massive chest. Bretts frowned, trying to restrain the meddlesome ball of energy, who was trying to beat him to death (and putting on an adorable show), and his chortling teammate in the hall. Kelly and Sandra would undoubtedly kill him for this little stunt, but at least they would understand _why_ he did it before he met a sudden and painful end. His roaming fingers met a cool fabric with a silk-like texture and pulled it from the bag. _Bingo._ Amber stopped her tantrum suddenly, as if someone had hit the pause button on life. Her head shot up, immediately on high alert, like a gazelle being hunted by a lion. And though it was too dark for her to really see, she could _sense_ the beast's menacing presence. She growled menacingly, mandibles taunt, her pearly white teeth glinting like knives in a dark alley. Her little arms tightened reflexively around his neck, her instinct to protect pulsing in every neuron as they raced throughout her nervous system. Her golden eyes seemed to glow in the dark, their yellow color seemed to burn away the darkness around her as they challenged the creature before her. Its mass, as black as the void itself, stared back, unmoving and limp. It showed no signs of life, not a trace of a pulse. But Amber would not be fooled. She knew it lay in wait, dormant, but ready to strike the instant she let her guard down.

Bretts looked between the suit and Amber, the confusion that lined the creases on his face rapidly morphing into frustrating realization. _Right, the suit. Damn it._ He stifled a groan, resisting the urge to bang his head against the floor in an attempt to rectify the obvious lack of brain cells within. In the three years Sandra had been gone, she and Kelly had come up with a backup plan to ensure their child's safety in case she ever found herself back on space-faring vessel with no way for her parents to reach her. Hence, the vacuum suit. Custom made to adhere to her body structure, it cost the blonde a pretty penny to get her hands on. But no price was too high for her daughter. The only problem? Amber _despised_ it. As if somehow the suit had personally affronted her family on some level neither of her parents could comprehend. Sandra nearly lost a finger the first time she struggled to get her little angel in it. That's why it was deemed a final resort; A last-ditch effort if things went sideways.

"Amber." He began warningly, trying to draw her attention away from the suit. No one had a clue why its mere presence set her so on edge.

"No." Her jovial tone she usually carried had been flattened by the sheer harshness in which she now spoke, like sharpened concrete. His fingers twitched from memory. Her voice sounded different. Older. _Would she sound like this when she's older?_ _Not helpful. Focus._

"It's the only option." She shook her head vehemently, displaying her disagreement plainly. He was rolling over a response in his head when Tiffany stepped into the conversation in the loudest way possible. The resounding booms of the 8-gauge shells as they tore through another scouting party startled the stubborn child. She clung tightly to his neck as she shivered with fear. The specialist's cry to 'hurry the fuck up!' tilled the field of tears that he thought had been barren and abandoned. He wiped the tears away with his thumbs and patted her head gently. "Hey." She looked up with misty golden eyes. A surge of protectiveness washed over him like tidal wave. Someone threatened to hurt, no, _kill_ this little child. All because she was on this ship. _They are going to pay._ He curled his fist in anger, almost to the point where his knuckles turned white. "Your parents would want you to be safe. They entrusted me to do just that. Please?" She stared at the suit for what seemed like hours, her features tight and hostile.

With a nod, the chatty Spartan gave a sigh of relief. This battle, at least, was over. Quickly, he helped strip her of most of her clothing, to allow the suit to be fitted properly. His teammates' weapons were a reminder that his time was growing short, marching to the beat of their lead drums that thundered away just outside the door. Amber mewed as she clawed at her suit uncomfortably. Her mother was right, she really _did_ hate it. Bretts placed the helmet into her trembling hands. "Stay in the maintenance causeways. They should keep you safe." Her golden eyes still shone brightly in the blackness around them, hardly diminished by the tears that stained her face only a few short minutes before. "Only come out for me or your parents. _**No one else.**_ Is that clear?" Her eyes acted as runway lights for the resolute nod she gave the Spartan. He gave her one in return, mostly to comfort himself, and gently pushed her into the small duct that fed into one of the main causeways. With a final statement to 'stay safe, munchkin', he was gone. A third weapon joined the firefight behind her, but it was lost in the sea of other lead-bearing waves, each violently crashing against each other, struggling for power and life.

The maintenance ducts acted as capillaries for the _Infinity_ , helping distribute oxygen and carry electrical signals throughout the entirety of the ship. Though the causeways were much larger, easily managing to fit a Mantis with room to spare, the cramped crawlspaces that fed into them were often left untended due to the very nature of their size. On occasion, an Engineer would float into one of the larger ones, cleaning and repairing as it went along, pulsing in time with the silent huff of its air sacs that kept it aloft. Not today. Today, the Huragok were deafeningly absent, leaving the young Amber alone with the freezing, unsympathetic titanium walls. The sounds of violence reverberated through her hiding spot, as if the ship was choking on the chaos and blood that languished within itself.

"Stop it." She whispered, desperately pleading for the violence to end. She ground her palms against her ears in an effort to stop the cries of the dying. But they were like a toxin: they had entered into the bloodstream of the _Infinity,_ eagerly spreading wherever they pleased. _"_ Stop it! Stop it! Why can't we all be friends?" She screamed, hoping someone would hear. The only response was more death, as if the Grim Reaper was mocking her for her outlook on life. Swallowing the bile in her mouth, she took a deep breath and slipped the helmet on, enshrouding her in a sliver of the dark void. Silence. The tortured screams, the gunfire, the _ceaseless_ noise of war, all extinguished by the helmet that protected her little head. Relief flooded her, allowing her to relax her muscles that had been pulled taunt by fear. Slowly, she began to crawl further into the tunnel, each foot moving her farther from danger. She banged her head a few times when she had to change direction in the cramped quarters, grumbling unapologetically at the engineers who designed these ducts, but otherwise made her trip in silence. Alone, her thoughts drifted to her parents. _I miss mommy's smile. It's so pretty, just like mother. But that man told me to be safe. Mommy trusts him, so I do too._ She was still scared; her limbs trembled occasionally, but she soldiered on. She could even hear her mother's voice now: " _Be brave, my little angel. Be brave for your mommy and I._ Amber took a few deep breaths, closing her eyes to focus on the image of her parents. They were doing their best so it was only fair she tried just as hard. Nodding to herself, she reached up to the ledge above and pulled herself up with a grunt. Spartan Bretts had told her not to come out for anyone besides her parents or himself. So, until then, she would become the hide-and-seek champion of the _Infinity_.

 **Permefreis Surface**

 **Unidentified Ice Shelf**

 **0930 hours**

Sandra felt her teeth chatter like chipmunks in spite of the Warthog's massive tires and heavy suspension. The puff of flame from the Covenant scout craft was dwarfed by the sheer concussive force of the ONI facility going up in flames. Geysers of fire shot nearly a hundred feet in the air, painting the sky with smoke and debris, interrupting the quiet snowfall that began that morning. The intense heat vaporized the ice around it, creating a dense mist that obscured a glimpse of anything caught within. Fred pushed his foot to the floor, throwing the beast into a fishtail to avoid another burst of plasma fire. Linda adjusted her footing and opened up with the chaingun, armor-piercing rounds ripping the Ghost, and the driver within, to shreds. The pilot's screams went unheard as Chief let loose his own storm of lead. The two Spartans cut into the convoy with ruthless efficiency, applying short, controlled bursts to the weakest parts of the vehicles, spraying the pristine ice shelf purple with gore. Their destination still lay almost half a kilometer away, a seemingly impossible distance when you were busy dodging boiling plasma.

" _Blue Team, do you copy?"_ Sandra's com clicked to life as their pilot's frustrated voice rang over the channel. " _Chief do you read?!"_ Sandra's battle rifle continued to harass their pursuers before the heavy chainguns reduced their frames to a mangled, melted mess.

"This is Spartan Wolfe. We read you Diamond-3. What's your status?"

" _I'd be a lot better if these damn Hornets would get off my ass!"_ The olive-green transport blasted out from behind a spire of ice with a roar, as four smaller green craft tried to paint Erickson in a gold-speckled, lead monsoon. Their skilled pilot rolled into a dive, hoping to shake his trigger-happy pursuers. The attack VTOL's dipped their thrusters and followed him down, their chambers open all the while.

" _Chief, I can pop those Covies behind you if you can knock these annoying gnats off my tail!"_ The Pelican flared its thrusters at the last second, leveling out just a few meters above the ice. The armor-piercing rounds didn't stop coming. " _Please hurry up. Diamond-4 is in the bottom of a ravine."_ That limited their choices for getting off this hellish ball of ice. And Sandra was _not_ keen on staying here.

" _Switch targets."_ The two veterans fired a few more bursts as an extra incentive for the alien soldiers to keep their heads down, then swung the heavy turrets 180° and began to pound the UNSC aircraft. Linda felt the sweat run down her back as the first wave of plasma washed over her shields. Her nerves wailed like sirens, screaming for her to face her enemy, but she kept her sights on the rapidly approaching Hornets. The lead craft exploded almost instantly as dozens of rounds punched through its armor, forcing the others to scatter. Taking the opportunity, Erickson blazed through the convoy of Covenant vehicles, reducing their pristine, sleek shapes to charred husks of mangled metal and broken bodies. Streams of golden fire tracked the traitorous aircraft like a hawk would dive for its prey, sinking its lead claws into the light armor, perforating it like tissue paper. Blood painted the cockpit red as the craft spun out of control, smashing into the ice without mercy.

The other two tried to bring down the Pelican while dodging the groundfire from the Spartans. In the end, it just proved too much. As skilled as they were, Erickson was leaps and bounds ahead of them, performing maneuvers that Linda didn't even think were _possible_ with a bird that big. Linda was impressed. That didn't come often. Like a cat that had finished playing with its catch, the remaining pilots were quickly snuffed out, drowning in their own blood. He landed a short distance away, his engines stirring up the settled snow, whipping the snowflakes about like rain in a hurricane.

"Any contact with the _Infinity_?" Chief asked as the gangplank closed behind him. He was the last one to board. The warthogs were abandoned, left to freeze in the extreme cold of the planet's nocturnal cycle.

" _Not a word, Chief. I could barely get through to you. Damn snowstorms."_ Their pilot grumbled from his seat. " _We should have better luck when we break atmosphere."_ Chief elected to remain silent, simply claiming a seat near the cockpit door. A dull roar filtered into the cabin, letting the soldiers know they had taken to the sky once more. Linda escorted Halsey to a spare seat before finding one for herself, examining her sniper with a critical eye. Sandra chuckled and rolled her eyes behind her visor. _Of course,_ that would be the first thing the redhead would do. Linda gestured rudely, clearly annoyed. Kelly took her own spot next to her lover, casting nervous glances between Halsey and her blonde beauty. While the scout was unable to see the doctor's face, the subtle movements of her head eluded to the fact that she was watching her Spartans carefully; scrutinizing them.

Catherine couldn't place it, but her Spartans seemed…different. They had always had their quirks, but in the short time they had to reconnect, she had started to notice something was off. This shift in behavior peaked her curiosity. Her highly intelligent, scientific mind began to break them down, trying to pinpoint their oddities. _Fred seems largely unchanged. Strong-willed, confident…and still taking orders from John._ She allowed herself a small smile as she remembered that the two of them competing against each other for the ability to lead the team. Her gaze shifted over to John. He had always been the strong, silent type, preferring actions over words. A sentiment that was shared by Cortana. For more than once, that day, she was glad for the polarized faceplates that her Spartan's wore. All the damage she had done, the cruelties she justified. _No more. No longer will I sacrifice few to save the many. I have ruined far too many lives with that mantra._ She could see the weight that all her Spartan's carried, how it clawed and ripped at their humanity, pulling them deeper into the depths she feared they would never return from. Sure, they had won the war. _But at what cost? What price do my Spartans have to pay to afford themselves some semblance of peace?_ She gently shook her head to clear the troubling questions within. There would be time to examine their overlying psychological state at a later time.

Linda had always had a sharp eye. That was what made her Blue Team's sniper since their inception. Looking at her now though, the Spartan seemed troubled. Her movements, which had always been graceful and filled with purpose, were clunky and jittery. Something was on the redhead's mind and it was slowly eating at her, like a lion grazing on a festering carcass. Linda was never one to share her problems. The best course was to let her solve them on her own. Clearly, this new 'addition' didn't realize that. Or if she did, she was purposefully ignoring them, which was worse. There was a time where one of the other trainees wouldn't stop teasing her about her red hair. He ended up with four broken ribs, a bruised collarbone, and two black eyes. Linda was _not_ one to cross. Kelly though… _she seems…happy. She has always had difficulties in squandering her emotions._ Halsey watched as Sandra and Kelly exchanged split-second hand gestures and subtle movements. _Odd. They seem…close. Very close._ Vowing to have another conversation with Kelly at a later time, she shifted all of her attention onto the fifth member of Blue Team: Sandra. The purple color clashed horribly with the drab olive that surrounded them and stood out like a sore thumb among her teammates. It simply drew too much attention. With such disregard for her fellow Spartans, Halsey took an immediate dislike to the woman.

In her eyes, Sandra was not fit to serve with _her_ Spartans. To be fair, she believed no one was. They were unique, superior, and the cornerstone of Humanity's victory in the Human-Covenant War. This 'SPARTAN-IV' was just an imitation, a cheap knockoff of the program she had slaved over for years to create the best soldiers Humanity had to offer. The mere _presence_ of this woman irritated her. She had no idea how this 'Spartan' was able to get so intertwined with Blue Team, but she was going to have a word with the captain of whatever ship John came in on. This could not stand. _Why do you have a capsule of crushed ice crystals?!_

" _Chief, you're gonna want to see this."_ Erickson's panic-stricken voice crackled over the com, splitting the silence like a firecracker. He stood up, swiftly entering the cockpit of the bird. The other Spartans exchanged worried glances. This was not normal procedure. This means there was a problem, and they didn't appreciate surprises. Shortly thereafter, the dull roar of the engines faded to a muted whine, quickly followed by the loss of all power. The Master Chief moved back to the crew cabin, his helmet lights throwing jagged shadows upon the metal frame.

"The _Infinity_ has been attacked." Kelly and Sandra stiffened with fear. One thought swam furiously inside their heads, refusing to be ignored: _Amber._ Throwing a quick glance around the cabin to make sure no one was looking, Kelly gave her love's hand a reassuring squeeze, allowing the small smile to play at her lips when it was returned. "Gear up. Diamond-3 is going to lay low until coms are safe. We have no intel on the enemy. Be prepared for anything." They gathered what few munitions still lingered in the bird. As they prepared to disembark, Halsey loudly cleared her throat.

"Aren't you forgetting someone?" She asked indignantly.

"Ma'am I don't think that is wise-" Fred stopped when she held up her hand, like a child with his hand caught in the proverbial cookie jar.

"This is not up for discussion, Frederic." He looked like he wanted to protest, but wisely kept his mouth shut. John kept silent but all of them could tell he was uneasy about it.

"Kelly, Sandra, escort Dr. Halsey to the _Infinity_." The two women saluted and took their place on either side of her.

" _Don't worry about me. I brought crackers and cheese,_ " All of them could hear him as he loudly chewed his food. " _Well, enouph fur me anywy."_ He spoke around his food. " _Just call the cavalry when you need it, Chief."_ Linda snorted and shook her head at her pilot's demeanor.

"Pop the hatch." Fred nodded and hit the button to drop the gangplank, starting the decompression sequence.

 **Come Back Next Time!**

Sorry it took me so long to update. I hit a few snags when writing the plot and couldn't think of any good ideas. I didn't want to give you all garbage, so I just stepped back until something better came to me. This is the result of all the waiting. I hope you like it! I would love to hear your comments on this chapter and I hope the next one is just as good! Next time: Blue Team boards the _Infinity_! What will happen? Only I know…muhahahahahahahaha *cough* *cough* *cough*

Sorry, the power of the writer got to me a bit there. Anyway, don't forget to follow, favorite and review! Until next time fellow Halo fans!


	7. Bright as Blood

**The Rabbit and the Wolfe**

And the wait is _**FINALLY**_ _ **OVER!**_ I had a MASSIVE case of writer's block I could not get past for the longest time. I also got an editor, who has been doing a wonderful job so far correcting my mistakes and making sure I was giving you guys and gals the best. So, sit back, relax and enjoy the newest chapter of the Rabbit and the Wolfe: Crimson Legacy! Please don't forget to favorite, follow and review!

 _ **BIG**_ shout out to **MightyMilkDuds** for being my second set of eyes and ears on this chapter! He did a wonderful job of proofreading my work! So, show him some love and give him a cookie!

 **07: Bright as Blood**

 **December 3, 2561**

 **Debris field surrounding UNSC** _ **Infinity**_

 **77 Polar System**

 **1400 hours**

" _Holy…_ " Sandra muttered as she stared out, horrified, at the tortured, gut-twisting sight before her. Twisted, mangled chunks of titanium floated aimlessly in the void like lost souls locked in limbo. A few dozen vehicles bounced lightly around their metal playpen like ping pong balls, powered only by inertia. But among the forest of metal, lay its inhabitants, left at the mercy of Mother Nature. For all of her charms, her beauty, she can be a cruel bitch. She dug her icy talons into these unlucky souls, freezing bone and tissue, smiling wickedly as her victims strained to breathe. She relished in their suffering, tenderly kissing those who refused to succumb to her frigid embrace, sucking out the last of their oxygen, like the vacuum that surrounded them. From there it was only a matter of time until her friend Death took them under his tattered wing.

She knew Death well. While they had met on many occasions, and had seen him collect many of her friends, he had never laid a bony, chilling finger upon her. But the gaping hole in the side of the _Infinity_ brought many faces to the surface she would have rather left buried. This ship had become her home. The people inside; her family. Someone had attacked her family, her _daughter._ This sudden realization brought with in a wave of nausea that nearly knocked her off her feet. She felt like she had been kicked in the stomach by a Brute. _Oh god, Amber._ Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes as she imagined coming upon her daughter's broken body, each one worse than the last. Squeezing her eyes shut, she shook her head violently to banish the terrifying images. _If those bastards hurt one hair on her head…metaphorically speaking. I'll-_ Sandra was ripped from her building rage as someone shook her fiercely. Blinking a few times, her tunnel vision cleared enough to see Kelly before her, worry written clearly on her features.

" _Sandra_." She spoke calmly, but Sandra could tell her scout was frightened. And angry. Sandra closed her eyes, breathing through her nose, trying to refocus. Mother or not, it would do them little good to search such a massive ship with no idea what was going on. Kelly kept her pup at arm's length, keen senses picking up that they were not alone. She knew that Halsey was no doubt curious of her behavior, but she could _really_ use a hug right now, god damn it! Once the _Infinity_ was clear of hostiles and Amber was safe, _then_ she would find a dark corner where she could shower her love with affection, thanking the woman for all the wonderful work she had done.

" _Yea. I'm_ ," The blonde swallowed thickly, stamping out any thoughts which might become a distraction. " _…I'm good_." Kelly gave her a stiff nod and returned to her position. They launched out of the relative safety of the pelican, the blue glow of their thrusters mimicking stars moving across the night sky. And whomever was watching would hopefully believe the ruse long enough for them to board. Chief and the others were already onboard and waiting, their landing zone marked with that annoying little bobbing waypoint. It was beautiful, the way they swam through the churning debris, much like a penguin glides along the ice. The hole loomed before them like a gaping maw, ready to swallow them whole with its sharp, jagged teeth. Crossing the threshold, it looked like a pack of hyenas had descended upon the wounded vessel, ripping its titanium skin from its bones and gorging themselves on the bits of flesh within. _That hole has to be 10, 15 decks tall, and at least a dozen decks deep._ Not 30 seconds later, the three women touched down onto one of the torn decks, their boots muffled by the vacuum surrounding them.

" _Ma'am, how much air do you have left?"_ Kelly asked.

" _Just over twelve minutes."_ Kelly clicked into the TEAMCOM and relayed the message to the others.

" _There is an airlock at the end of this passage."_ The two Spartans unslung their weapons and made their way to their objective, careful to keep Halsey shielded between them. Their suits illuminated the path before them and they reached the air lock in no time at all.

" _We're on the other side. Cycle the lock."_ Kelly told the rest of her team.

" _Negative, Blue 4. Controls are gone. You have to cycle it from the outside."_ Master Chief responded. She cursed under her breath but confirmed his words nonetheless. _Off to a great start already._ Blue 5 had already begun to work the controls, rifle clipped to her back. With little else to do, Kelly stepped around the doctor, _Oathsworn_ pointed down the dimly lit corridor.

 **UNSC** _ **Infinity,**_ **S-deck**

 **Temporary Command Center**

 **1440 hours**

Major Reilcat drummed his fingers on a metal railing, contemplating his next move, as he looked over one of the many large armories that were strategically placed during the vessel's construction. He allowed himself a small smile, savoring the progress that his cause had made. The battle for the _Infinity_ still raged like a fire in a field of dry brush, as proven by the pistol on his hip and an assault rifle leaning against the nearby wall, but they had won several major victories. But there were still a few major pieces missing, namely Captain Lasky, Commander Palmer and Blue Team. Their continued survival would surely be a major thorn in his side for the hours to come, but with heavy fighting for engineering and the bridge, he could not afford to divert men to deal with them. He would just have to keep an ear to the ground. _Years of planning. Years. Gathering intelligence, obtaining assets, it was all for this moment. Our vision is coming together. Soon, we shall be free from these imperialistic bastards. Then, and only then, we can take back what was wrongfully taken from us and begin the real task: rebuilding. This is just a battle. It is the war we must win._ It was at times like this he craved a well-aged whiskey.

"Sir," Alexander's scowl did not disappear as he regarded the soldier who had sought to bother him.

"What is it?" He asked pointedly, eager for the man to leave.

"Bravo team brought back a couple of eggheads from their most recent push." He raised an inquisitive brow, waiting for the man to continue. Bravo was one of the teams assigned to push for the reactor. If they could wrestle control of the ship from Lasky and that insufferable AI, the better off they'll be.

"They know anything that could be useful?" The soldier just shrugged his shoulders in response. Whether that meant the information the scientists knew was actually useful or if he was unsure if they had any information at all was up for debate. In truth, he did not really care either way. If they did, they may prove useful in securing the flagship. If not…well, a military vessel can be a very dangerous assignment. A few more bodies wouldn't matter.

"Find out if they know anything. Keep the ones that do. Make an example of the others." The soldier nodded, but didn't leave. Instead, he bounced around on his toes like a kid in a candy shop. The major held a level glare until the man ceased his movements. "Was there something else?" The messenger's presence was becoming irritable, but his mother had instilled _some_ manners into him.

"Well, there's this girl…one of the scientists-" He rambled out excitedly. Alex huffed through his nose as his muscles in his face tried to form a smile once more. _Youth, never really changes._

"Just keep her quiet." The marine smiled in a way any normal person would have found both revolting and nauseating. "And keep this between us. I don't need every soldier whining about 'equal rewards'."

"You won't hear a peep, sir." Throwing his commander a final salute, he turned and practically sprinted down the steps, taking two at a time. It would be rude of him to make a lady wait, wouldn't it? The soldier had just disappeared from view when his coms began to chirp loudly.

"Yes?" He answered sharply. He was getting tired of interruptions.

" _Sir, Tango squad is dead."_ This came as no surprise. Soldiers died during war. The objective was far more important than individual lives. Commanding troops had taught him that. There would be a momentary gap in the defenses while a new Tango squad was formed and delivered to their zone of control.

"I hope you aren't bothering me with trivial problems you can solve yourself."

" _No, sir. They were patrolling the sector just inside of the deck breach. The only way to get there would be to-"_ His mind rapidly connected the dots. Either someone evaded an entire ship's worth of fighting and patrols, or more likely…

"Looks like the eagles have come to roost." He spoke, a wicked smirk spreading on his face. _Finally, some real action._ "Grab some rocks. Let's see if we can shake this nest up a bit." The older marine cut the channel, scooped up his assault rifle and trotted down the stairs with a newfound purpose.

"Listen up!" He shouted, his powerful cry echoing across the armory, drawing the attention of almost everyone around him. "The legendary Master Chief and his friends have come to spoil our little uprising. But, I for one, am not going to throw my rifle at the feet of a freak who thinks himself a god!" A chorus of 'hell no' bombarded his ears, pulling his muscles into an even wider grin. "So, this is what I propose: grab your weapons, grab your gear, and let's kill those sons of bitches!" Cheers and hollers spilled from the soldiers as they rapidly collected their gear, excited at the possibility of silencing the UNSC's poster child. _The young and the old. The weak and the strong. The genius and the fool. Though many years have passed,_ _ **nothing**_ _can erase what you have done, Spartan-117. You took my family from me. Now? Now I will take you from yours._

"Sir?" A soldier questioned tentatively. Though he was no Ekan 'Satanee, Major Reilcat did _not_ enjoy needless interruptions. Shaking his monologue, he turned to see almost thirty armored, focused faces staring back at him, plus a few trusted Spartans sprinkled throughout. Yes, there were other teams moving on other important objectives like the engines and AI Core, but _this_ mission was special. It was personal.

"Make no mistake. These soldiers are no pushovers. They are veterans and will not hesitate to kill you if given the chance, you must do the same if you value your life and those beside you. Yes, they may be murderers, but there is a reason they survived the entire Covenant War. They live up to the myth of the Spartans indeed. But their service ends here!" He raised his rifle into the air as the soldiers around him roared in approval. Like a tidal wave, it swelled up, consuming all other sounds in its aquatic fury. Alexander motioned to the others to follow with a wave of his weapon and they took off in a light jog to the nearest lift, excitement in their hearts and Spartan corpses dancing in their heads. It was time to hunt.

 **UNSC** _ **Infinity,**_ **Location Unknown**

 **Investigative Patrol**

 **1730 hours**

Things were not looking up for Palmer and the others. Not an hour after they left the safety of the bridge and recovered her helmet did they come under attack. Shepards went down almost instantly as an 8-gauge stripped him of all his tissues and organs, down to his spine. They had been on their way to engineering, but had to pull back when their firefight began to draw more than the small group could comfortably handle. Lasky presumed the AI Core would have less resistance, hoping that the enemy would not declare it a priority. Unfortunately for Wilkes, the route they took to get there was just as deadly, as she died from shock and massive hemorrhaging when a grenade took one of her legs. Palmer had to literally drag him away as he fruitlessly tried to save her, even as bullets sailed inches above his head. Right now, they were resting inside one of the many storage areas, recuperating from the fighting they had endured.

"Tom. It wasn't your fault. There was nothing you could do." Palmer said comfortingly, resting a reassuring hand on his shoulder. He looked up from his bloodied hands for the first time in almost an hour. He flashed her a small smile in thanks, but it did not reach his eyes. He drummed a bloody finger on the crate he sat upon, his hazel eyes flickering across her cyan visor, as if searching for some sort of sign as to what to say next. His brows furrowed in concentration a few times before he shook his head, apparently giving up on his thoughts. He pulled his sidearm from its holster, examining it with great interest. Sensing this conversation was over, Palmer turned on her heel to find wherever the heck Yuma had gone off to.

"What do you think they're after?" Palmer stopped, looking back over her shoulder with a serious face.

"Power? Money? Fame? A twisted sense of justice? Something else we don't know about? I don't see how it matters right now." Lasky refused to meet her eyes for a few moments, but when he did, there was that iron-clad sense of determination he often wore.

"They are my men. I should have seen this coming. I should have done something." The Commander folded her arms across her chest, glaring at him from behind her cyan visor.

"No, Tom. Though you command this ship, their decisions were theirs and theirs alone. There was no way anyone could have seen this coming, even Roland and Aura were in the dark. And, even in spite of this insurgency, you have taken control of the situation as best you could." Her words hung in the air for a few seconds. Finally, Lasky nodded, a chuckle fluttering from his lungs. Palmer quirked an eyebrow, leaning back against a crate. "I fail to see how this is funny."

"It's not." He said, waiving away any concerns she may have had. "Just…the amount of paperwork that is going to be waiting for us after this is over." Sarah let herself relax a bit."Damn. We are going to have to vet _everyone_. That is going to take _months_."

"If we're lucky." Palmer added with a wry smile. Though he couldn't see her face, he took her jest at their poor luck good naturedly, shaking his head with a smile. A friendly silence enveloped them, with only the sporadic flickering of the lights above to prove that they were even in the room. The lack of engines was disorienting. The hum that had been a constant for the past few years, had suddenly stopped. The ship felt quiet, empty without it. And the artificial voices that had often offered advice and reassurances were silent. It was chilling. Their enemies seemed to lurk around every corner. Paranoia and hate seemed to seep into every pore of the _Infinity_ , corrupting it from within. The ship was tearing itself apart and only their enemy seemed to understand what was going on.

"They will pay, Tom. I can promise you that." Palmer assured, seeing the turmoil play out on his face. Noting the time, she realized they had been here far too long. They had to get moving again if they were to take back their home. "We need to get to the AI Core. With Roland back up, we could have a real chance of figuring out what the hell is going on."

"Agreed." Quickly confirming that he did indeed still have ammo for his magnum, he slid off the crate, his boots hitting the deck with a dull _thump_. "Yuma?" He shouted into the fluctuating darkness beyond. No response, nothing. The hair on his neck stood on end as a sensation of dread crept up his spine like a lion stalking its prey. Palmer slid in front of him like and over excited shadow, a finger hovering on the trigger of her DMR. Without looing away, the Spartan motioned for them to move towards the door. Slowly, they crept across the storage deck, like it was made of glass.

"What's this? The great Commander Palmer doesn't have all of her toy soldiers? How…nauseatingly familiar." A deep voice rumbled from the dark, teeming with contempt and jealousy. Palmer cursed as her motion tracker suddenly exploded with contacts. Based on the lack of a surprise attack, they had either been followed or, more terrifying, the enemy had been lying in wait. Even in the sub-par lighting conditions, there was no mistaking the EOD-class armor and the massive M247H machine gun he was hefting with one hand. His armor was spattered with blood, tissue and what she hoped weren't bone fragments. Palmer glanced about the room, looking for an opening. The door was behind them, but they were caught in the open and that machine gun's explosive rounds would rip them apart in seconds. She couldn't see anyone besides the Spartan, but she could almost _feel_ the warm barrels being pressed into the back of her skull. She might have made it out the door with minor injuries, but Thomas wouldn't make it but a few steps before he would be cut down. Cursing herself for her inattentiveness, slid further into the line of fire. If it came down to her life or his, she would make sure he could rally their remaining forces.

"Lucky for you, I am not so forgetful." His harsh voice brought her cyan visor to bear against the brilliant red irises of the soldier before her. They seemed to shine with glee as two more figures stepped out into the flickering light. The other soldier, a Spartan as well, shoved the crewmember into the waiting hand of their apparent leader before fading away into the shadows behind them like a morning mist. "You see captain, we had a talk with your crewmember here, but he was…unfortunately unhelpful." His hand dug into Yuma's shoulder, driving him to his knees with a cry. Palmer's finger twitched on her trigger, eager to put a bullet in this Spartan's skull. Only the lingering thoughts of placing her captain in danger stayed her hand.

"What do you want?" Lasky demanded, embers of anger singeing his words as he watched Yuma spit out blood.

"We need information. You have it. So, a trade. You for him." _They need information?_

"Whatever they want, don't give it to them, sir!" the crewman pleaded. Lasky ground his teeth together as they man looked into his eyes with his one good blue one. The other one was swollen shut. As much as he despised himself for it, Yuma had a point. Whatever they were after, Lasky needed to prevent the enemy from acquiring such information, no matter what the cost might mean. That didn't make the decision any easier or the consequences any less revolting. He could feel his stomach beginning to churn, his mouth drying up more each word that came out of it.

"I will not surrender any secrets of this ship or the UNSC to terrorists." The storage bay went silent for a few seconds as the Spartan seemed to digest his refusal. The next thing anyone heard was the scream that tore from Yuma's throat as a monstrous combat knife was driven up through his shoulder.

"You see," The hostile soldier spoke calmly, completely ignoring the screaming comms officer at his feet. "I was kind to offer you a deal. But since you refuse my offer, I am removing my chips from the table." He hauled the whimpering officer to his feet by the handle of the blade, the steady _drip drip drip_ of Yuma's blood felt like watching an orbital bombardment all over again. Looking straight into the Spartan's red "eyes", Lasky felt like staring straight into hell itself. This figure before him was less a man and more a gateway to the demons who called the land of fire and brimstone their home. And like the demons of the underworld, he had a bloodlust that could not be quelled. He cruelly twisted the blade and yanked it from the officer's shoulder, coating the hyperdense alloy in the slick, red liquid which poured from the open wound. "Besides, red is a much more suitable color." Tossing the blade into the air with a flourish, the supersoldier drove it deep into Yuma's neck, smiling wickedly as the communications officer began choking on the very fluid that kept him alive. He always loved irony. With much more force than he would ever need, he ruthlessly guided the ultra-sharp high carbon steel through the supple flesh, spraying the Captain and his lapdog with red.

Yuma's corpse had not even hit the ground before a volley of 7.62x51mm FMJ-AP rounds slammed into the killer's shields, which blazed an angry gold. "Kill them!" He bellowed, diving behind a nearby crate to preserve his shields. Dozens of projectiles ripped through the darkness from all directions, like messages of death from the angels themselves. Lasky was roughly shoved to the ground, as Palmer's titanium shell intercepted the attack. He was sure to have a bruise, but that was better than a corpse. Drawing his sidearm as he was dragged away, he was happily rewarded with a pained cry as his rounds penetrated an ODST's armor. White hot lead flew in all directions as Lasky and Palmer attempted to cover their retreat. The captain's shoulder flared painfully as he was tossed behind a stack of crates like a doll, Palmer crouching beside him with a pained grunt. Slipping the last spare magazine into its housing with a satisfying _click_ , he took a few precious seconds to give his friend a once-over.

The Commander's SCOUT-variant had seen better days. The ivory titanium plates that were always polished so thoroughly they would often temporarily blind whomever passed by, were scuffed and scored. Her chest plate looked like Luna's surface, deeply scarred and pot marked with ricochets, a testament to its valiant defense of its wearer. Her deep black undersuit was dotted with hardened biofoam, a painful reminder that although Spartans were tough, they weren't invincible. He threw her a concerned glance he way as she tossed the empty magazine to the side, but slid off her visor like a hockey puck on ice.

"On my mark, make a break for the door! I'll cover you." Palmer shouted, her words struggling to overcome the sheer amount of gunfire that bounced around the room. "Three! Two!" She held up two fingers as Lasky picked up on some banging on the other side of their cover. Only it didn't sound like bullets. Risking a glance up, he caught the glint of a knife in the artificial flickering glow.

"Above you, Commander!" Time seemed to slow as Sarah twisted to intercept the new threat. But her reaction was too sluggish as the rifle was shoved aside, followed quickly by a bloody, serrated ten-inch blade being forced through her shoulder. The two armored soldiers rolled away from the melee, their augmented limbs hunting for any mistakes they could exploit. Any hesitation, any weakness would be met with a quick and brutal end. The traitorous Spartan twisted the blade in her shoulder with vicious abandon, intent on making her death as painful as possible.

"You always were a bitch." He snarled, hovering over her. Not waiting for a response, he used his other hand to reach for a second knife on his chest. Seeing her only opportunity closing before her, she struck him across the face. _Hard._ Reeling sideways from the blow, she managed to free her legs from his hold, kicking off her dark blue opponent with a harsh shove to the chest. She couldn't hold in the cry of pain that leapt from her throat as the weapon was pulled from her blood-soaked shoulder. Gritting her teeth, she drew her own knife from its hold, clambering to her feet to square off with her attacker. Forcing the pain to the back of her mind, she concentrated on the two pointy objects that seemed to want nothing more than to perforate her lungs. She was definitely at a disadvantage, having only the one to defend herself with. _I hope those biofoam injectors can keep up._ She could vaguely tell the bullets hadn't stopped flying, in fact, the firefight seemed to have only escalated. Weather that was a good thing or not was something else entirely. As if those malicious, demonic gateways sensed her lapse in attention, he charged her, intent on extinguishing her life.

He swung at her unprotected regions, the haunting possibility that this was not the first Spartan he had killed following in the blades' wake as they cut through the air. She spun on her heel and ducked, dodging the first one entirely and watching the sparks flare up as the second one scraped across her chin. Using her momentum, she drove her own blade into his side. With a pained grunt, he lashed out with his knee, catching her in the head as she tried to shift her weight. He followed her down as she crashed to the ground, carbon steel poised to enter her vital regions. Her body reacted before her mind could grasp what was happening, grabbing his wrists and using her momentum to kick him over her head. Not wanting to give him a chance to literally stab her in the back, she rolled to her feet and rushed the blue Spartan. He was halfway to his feet when the Commander slammed into his side, sending them into a poorly stacked pile of crates. Her nerves pulsed angrily at their harsh treatment as a particularly heavy crate cracked her clavicle bone. _I deserve better than this_ , her body screamed. Ignoring the drama queen within, she pushed it off with a grunt, eager to return to the fight.

The sound of moving metal pushed her muscles into overdrive, fear nipping at the edges of her mind. She did not want to be caught off guard. Losing focus here would most certainly mean a very slow and painful demise, something she wasn't eager to partake in. Scrambling to her feet, she turned around, only to get a few cracked ribs for her trouble as a heavy metal bar slammed into her unprotected side. Swallowing a scream, she continued the fight, hoping that her ribs wouldn't become dislodged and start puncturing organs. Then she would _really_ be in trouble. But even with her mangled ribs, Palmer seemed to dance circles around her larger opponent. But this was not a beautiful dance, full of elegance and grace. No, this more resembled a back-alley brawl more than anything else in existence. It was grueling, brutal, and merciless.

She was breathing heavily, wincing at every inhale as her organs brushed up against her injured rib cage. Sweat was cascading from her pores like waterfalls, blurring her vision and making her skin feel slick and clammy. Or maybe that was just the injuries talking. Shaking her head to clear the encroaching darkness, she gripped the blade in her hand even tighter. She had no idea where her weapons had ended up, and was pretty sure she had a concussion, but she brushed those concerns off. She could deal with her injuries later.

"I have to admit, you fight pretty good...for a woman." He taunted, his focus on the weapon in her hand. She frowned behind her helmet and felt her skin bristle angrily. _For a-_ The backward comment cut deep. She had worked her ass off to get this position. Someone higher up the chain of command had sought her fit to be the best candidate for the job. If he was trying to rile her up into making mistakes, he was barking up the wrong tree. She was only _more_ determined to plunge her blade into his throat. Electing not to respond, she began to circle him once again, looking for her opening.

Irked at her silence, he lunged at her again, swinging his blades with deadly precision, despite his injuries. Blocking the strikes with her armored forearms, she brought up her knife, embedding it into his uninjured side. Growling in pain and dropping his own knives, he clamped his gauntlet around her wrist and began to beat her skull like a drum. Her head bounced around violently, not unlike a car caught up in a tornado, her helmet being the only thing saving her from a crushed skull or shattered spine. Unable to really think put a string of thoughts together with the constant beating and wailing warnings, Palmer fumbled blindly for a weapon. By sheer luck, her fingers wrapped around one of the discarded knives. Knowing she was fighting an oncoming concussion, and would only have one chance to strike, she would need a moment of clarity. Unfortunately, the only idea that came to numb mind was not the most sensible one. _Hell, this isn't even sane._ But what choice did she have? Die? That was _not_ on her to-do list for today.

 _This is stupid._ Her fingers tightened around the hilt. _Last chance to back out, Palmer._ Her mind warned, even as her head slammed repeatedly into the unyielding deck plate. _Lasky can never know about this. I'll never live it down._ Taking as deep a breath as her cracked ribs would allow, she brought the knife up into an arc. Predictably, her opponent released his hold and shifted his weight back to dodge her uncoordinated strike. The knife continued its path downward, straight into the nerve-filled flesh of her thigh. At least she wasn't brain dead enough to bring the blade straight down. That would have severed her femoral artery and she would have bled out quickly, no matter how much biofoam she sprayed into her wound. This time she couldn't hold back the scream as the serrated metal sawed straight into the muscle, only the angled placement saved her life. The pain, as excruciating as it was, pushed the desperately-needed adrenaline into her system, temporarily forcing the fuzziness from her vision.

"What the f-" He began, clearly surprised. She didn't give the courtesy to finish. Grabbing the back of his helmet, she wrenched a third blade from a sheath on his chest and drove the knife into one of the demonic portals that stared back, unblinking. This time he _did_ scream, and boy, did the darker part of mind enjoy it immensely. His bellows of agony seemed to fade in place of the dull, insistent buzzing. She could hear nothing beyond that singular noise: not the surrounding gunfire, not the blaring warnings of her armor…nothing. If there was not some part of her mind reminding her of her long list of injuries, she would almost find it peaceful. Looking out across the bloodied deck, she could see the massive knife the Spartan had used, still covered in the blood of his victims. Rolling her head, she saw that same soldier struggling to obtain his bearings, floundering about like a fish trapped above water. It was high time she finished this fight.

She must have looked absolutely pitiful, crawling across the deck like some snail pulling itself through the muck. Eventually though, she reached her goal. Her ribs felt they were on fire and her lungs felt like they were full of lead, but she soldiered on. Summoning enough strength to pull herself up on shaky legs, Palmer wordlessly glared at the killer before her. Neither of them said anything, knowing what was coming next. Roughly shoving his chest to the floor with her boot, she drove the weapon straight through the undersuit covering his throat as she practically collapsed in exhaustion, a dark red pool spreading evenly along the seamless channels of the deck. His desperate, gurgled inhales were the last sounds he would ever utter as the life slowly faded from his eyes. His limbs went limp and Palmer finally allowed herself to relax. _About time_ , she chided herself.

Closing her eyes, she let gravity take over and toppled from atop his lifeless body. She felt utterly _exhausted_ and all she wanted to do was close her eyes and take a nice long nap. But alas, the universe seemed to have it out for her today, as the steady _thump_ of a pair of boots reverberated through her throbbing head. Gritting her teeth, she vehemently cursed whomever sought to disturb her. The footsteps stopped just beside her and for a few moments, there was silence.

"Bad day, ma'am?" The voice cheekily asked, knowing full well the answer.

"Just the usual, Spartan." She responded, numbly allowing herself to be pulled to her feet. She slung one arm over her purple companion, making sure to keep her weight off of her injured leg. It was slow going, but eventually they limped their way back across the storage bay, where voices could be heard much more clearly.

"I fail to see how this is a relevant topic, doctor."

"On the contrary, captain. It is directly related to the success of this mission." Lasky noticed the fifth member of Blue Team had returned, with an extra Spartan in tow and quickly dismissed the previous conversation.

"Another time, doctor." Halsey made a noise of displeasure, but said nothing further. Zeroing in on where the Commander's eyes were behind her cyan visor, he addressed her next. "How are you holding up?"

"Just peachy." She rasped out between her beaten ribs. She felt bad for lying to his face like that, but she could make it up later. They had bigger problems at the moment. Lasky frowned at the obvious deflection, but did not push the subject.

"She's blowing smoke out her ass…sir." Sandra interjected, much to the surprise of her superior and the ire of the Spartan Commander. She could feel the waves of anger radiating off the Spartan beside her, but proceeded onward regardless. "With all due respect to the Commander's skill and experience, her next stop should be a med-bay, not wherever we're going, sir." Lasky seemed to ponder the words for a few seconds as Kelly gave her purple-armored lover a subtle nod.

"Chief, you passed a med bay on your way here, correct?"

"Yes sir. Secured and staffed." He responded.

The captain wiped a streak of blood away from his head, cleaning the excess off on his pants. Taking an assault rifle from Fred's outstretched hand, he quickly checked the ammo counter before addressing his soldiers. "You wanted a sit rep, Chief? Here it is: We have no engines, weapons, coms or AI. Not to mention, lights and air come and go as we try to reboot the systems. Those we still have, at least. From what we have gathered, the fighting is spread out over the entire ship, but it is heaviest near Engineering and the AI Core, but there may be more."

Fred took this lull in the captain's update to ask a question. "What should we prioritize, sir?"

Lasky pondered the question. _What to prioritize indeed. Without coms, it is going to be a major hassle to obtain any information. Obviously, this isn't a problem for our enemy. The bastards came prepared. We don't want to be caught with our pants down if they call in reinforcements. But without Roland…this fight is going to be an absolute nightmare._ "Get Roland back online. If we can reestablish communications, we might not be _totally_ screwed. Reroute any forces along the way towards Engineering. We don't want them scuttling this ship when we're all still on board."

"Understood, sir. We'll get it done." Fred acknowledged firmly.

Blue Team then escorted Lasky and the others to the med bay, slowly backtracking through blood-stained corridors, bodies littering the titanium halls like grisly wallpaper. The gory reality of progress and the only currency the gods of war and death bothered to barter with. At last, they made it to the med bay, where the Commander was passed off to the anxious medical staff, torn between keeping their distance from the irritated Spartan and their duty to help. With their most pressing objective complete, Blue Team left without another word, racing towards the AI Core to try to make up for lost time.

"I believe we have a discussion to finish, doctor." Lasky pointed out wearily once Blue Team had disappeared from sight. Removing the helmet of her vacuum suit, she addressed the Captain with a neutral expression, mouth set in a tight line.

"That we do, Captain." Halsey answered succinctly, following the _Infinity's_ captain back inside the pristine white walls of the medical center.

 **Come Back Next Time!**

So sorry for the long wait! So much for a chapter a month, huh? I hope the fight scene between Palmer and the other Spartan was up to par. I wasn't sure as I wrote it. With school starting up, my schedule will be even _more_ wacked up than usual, but I will try my hardest not to have a repeat performance of the two month wait. Please let me know what you thought of the chapter and don't forget to favorite, follow and review! Next time on RW-CL: The enemies that you can see aren't the ones you should fear. It's the ones you can't.

Another hearty thanks to my proofreader **MightyMilkDuds** for his amazing work on this chapter and correcting my earlier mistakes!


	8. The Frightened and the Damned

**The Rabbit and the Wolfe**

Hope you're ready for this next one, because it's going to be a doozy! The bullets will fly and the blood will flow as the UNSC continues its struggle against the surprise attack lead by Major Reilcat himself! But what will happen when allegiances are tested and emotions are pushed to the breaking point? Keep reading to find out! Don't forget to follow, favorite and most importantly, review!

Many thanks to my editor **MightyMilkDuds** for correcting my mistakes and offering tips on improving this chapter!

 **08: The Frightened and the Damned**

 **December 3, 2561**

 **UNSC** _ **Infinity**_ **, Unknown Location**

 **77 Polar System**

 **2200 hours**

"Bretts, get your damn head in the game!" Tiffany shouted over the roaring staccato of rifle fire that endlessly poured through the doorway. Cursing in frustration, the specialist unclipped another frag grenade from her belt, primed it, and lobbed it through the open door. There were a few shouts of surprise from their enemies before the M9 HE-DP did what it does best: go boom. With a deceptively dull _thud_ , the shrapnel tore through dozens of soldiers, throwing many others clear of the blast with sheer concussive force. Starr shot her a quick nod to her before he leapt into the fray. Bursts of his battle rifle echoed along the scorched and bloody corridors out with a sense of finality as he systematically finished off the more stubborn enemies.

Satisfied that she wouldn't be shot in the back, she jogged over to where their teal-armored companion was. Careful not to disturb his trancelike state, she tapped him lightly on the shoulder. Though he jumped at her touch, he turned towards her, giving his undivided attention.

"Yes?" He asked curiously, as if they hadn't come straight out of a firefight. Tiffany withdrew her hand slowly, as if his armor was like a warm fire she didn't want to go out. Patrick tracked its movement carefully; Oasis's specialist used body language to speak, just as much as she did words. Therefore, it came as a complete surprise when she knocked him flat on his ass, her fist seemingly outrunning its own shadow.

"Get your head out of your ass! Your needless worrying nearly got Stephen killed!" Crouching down beside him, she lowered her voice a few notches before continuing. "I know your concerned about that little alien and the rest of the crew, all trapped on this ship. But how are we supposed to save anyone if were dead? I know it sucks, but we can't save them all. This is war. War has casualties. Even those like that little Sangheili girl. The best way to save her is to kill as many of these fuckers as we can. Now get up! I need to find replacements for those frags you made me waste." Cradling her shotgun like it was a newborn baby, Tiffany stood up and went to regroup with their Fireteam leader in the next room.

"Hey, Nakamura!" He called after her, standing up. She paused and turned her head. "Thanks. I needed that."

"No problem!" She responded, lazily waving as she continued walking. "I should punch you more often! Its cathartic."

"Not for me." Bretts mumbled, massaging his jaw. Tiffany just laughed off his complaints.

The three Spartans policed the next room. Behind their visors, three pairs of eyes took in a mess hall, or what was left of it. The tables and benches were bent and broken beyond all hope of repair. The bill for this little uprising was going to be _massive_. Mangled bodies hung from the rafters like meaty lanterns, blood dripping from their severed limbs to wash the floor in red. Others suffered similarly grisly fates. A few were crushed by flying debris while other soldiers were impaled by machinery or cooking utensils. The third member of Oasis moved among the dead like Death's thieving little sister, looting their corpses of ammo and grenades.

Their fireteam leader cleared his throat, trying to alert the tactician to his presence, but Bretts didn't seem to her him. This was nothing new. The spartan often got lost in thought after a battle. The best thing to do was let him work through it on his own. Starr's blue and yellow battle armor seemed almost comical compared with the gunmetal grey walls that surrounded them, but somehow it just seemed to work. Only one thing seemed out of place: the shattered bodies of their fellow humans that littered the room. Not to mention the warm, sticky pool they were standing in. _This isn't right_ , Bretts thought. They barely survived genocide at the hands of aliens. One would think that would go a long way to unifying people. Unfortunately, not everyone thought that way, which placed them into the situation they were in right now. Talk about holding a grudge. He had joined the UNSC to fight aliens and defend his home (the women who flocked to him were just a bonus), not to kill those he had fought with just a few years before. He allowed his eyes to wander over the carnage like camper looking for dry firewood after a rain shower, pausing when they fell upon what could only be described as the perfect piece of kindling.

"You alright there?" Spartan Starr asked, finally dragging him out of his state of deep thought.

"Come again, sir?" He thought he heard his leader sigh but chalked it up to his imagination.

"Looks like she really got you." Patrick just continued to massage and work the muscles in his jaw in silence. "What did you do?"

"Made her 'waste' her grenades." Starr winced reflexively. They both knew how angry she got over wasted ordinance, though they could never figure out why. Neither of them dared to ask. With that new information out in the open, their leader elected to give his fireteam members some distance, lest their disagreement pull him into the middle. The _last_ thing he wanted to get in between his ordinance-happy specialist and whatever poor bastard was her target. With his leader gone, most likely to distance himself, he just watched the raven-haired Spartan with more than passing interest. Meanwhile, Tiffany herself was lost in the past.

Tiffany Nakamura, or Tiff to those who knew her, had a different story than most of the other SPARTAN-IV's. Growing up in an extremely affluent community, she had spent most of her childhood being coddled and spoiled. She was demanding and only associated with those she deemed 'worthy' of her time. Being an only child, her parents saw to keeping out anyone that may seek to 'corrupt' their daughter, using their influence and wealth to keep her safe. She went to the most prestigious schools, ate the rarest foods, and dressed in clothes that were worth more than a small car. Her friends were as rich and spoiled as she was, looking down on anyone poor, which, with their money, was basically everyone else. Though she led a sheltered life, she was not ignorant. She knew the Covenant were a serious and frightening threat, a sentiment not shared by her peers or her parents. They thought they were untouchable because of their wealth, even as the Covenant was carving a bloody swath through Humanity. But credit chips and bribes would not work on an alien hegemony bent upon the extinction of their entire species. Though she believed that the aliens were a threat, they were on another world, killing strangers. She was safe behind their private fleet of warships. She could live her life of luxury. What did she care if some poor soul was slain? It was probably some poor addict without a cent to his name. Who would care if he ceased to exist? She certainly wouldn't. The war couldn't touch her. Boys and cute outfits were her only concerns. Nothing else was worthy of her time. Or so she thought.

Her concerns about the Covenant quickly faded away. By then, Humanity had been struggling for its very survival for almost a decade and a half. Partly as a PR stunt and partly from pressure from other planetary governments, her world had begun taking in refugees. There was public outrage and the government responded, saying that interruptions to their daily lives would be 'minimal, at best'. Refugees were given a quick medical checkup, some supplies and then quickly herded into ghettos and left to fend for themselves. Murder and looting run rampant in these sequestered areas, and the rich mocked, beat and ridiculed them, generally made their lives a living hell. The planet's private security generally turned a blind eye to these events, with the occasional exception in extreme cases. Not a day went by that Tiffany and other rich people took to the streets for the sole purpose of tormenting those less fortunate, having escaped one hell just to land in another. Some refugees did not take it lying down, and fought back. Most of them were either bribed, killed or simply disappeared, never to be seen again. Life was particularly brutal on this inner colony, as the most cared for refugees were treated as second class citizens. Even the native homeless and poor were treated with greater respect and kindness. That was simply how it was. Too wrapped up in their own concerns, no one had time to care about some poor orphan from some backwater dump.

Tiffany's world was turned inside out when she turned sixteen. She just had an amazing birthday party, but she wanted some time alone. Dressed in an expensive white dress that probably cost more than the café she was currently eating at, she watched the world around her, relishing in her money like a jeweler would show his best wares to potential customers. Her quiet world was disturbed when a boy ambled up towards her. His face was dirty, covered in dried blood, his hair looked like it had not been washed in months and his clothes were torn, stained and looked as though they had never been cleaned. He walked with a severe limp from a broken leg that never properly healed. She could see his bones through his skin, as though the organ was but a thin sheet draped over his skeleton. Any doctor would have paled at his condition and rushed him to the nearest hospital for immediate treatment. But no one would take a refugee as a patient. He ambled up to her table, cracked lips croaking out a desperate cry. More out of fear than anything else, she threw her hot drink in his face with a scream and scrambled away from something as degenerative as this _thing_. The boy made no sound as the liquid burned his haggard skin. Instead, he bent down and began licking the remnants of her drink off the floor.

" _Ha, look at him! Licking it off the floor like some kind of animal!"_ One patron jeered. There was laughter at a couple tables.

" _What a disgusting creature!"_ A woman called out, horrified.

" _This thing is loaded with diseases. Someone needs to get rid of it!"_ Several other patrons complained. It wasn't long before security showed up, beat the boy senseless, and threw him into a nearby alley, laughing the entire time. Tiffany quickly left, wanting to put as much distance between her and that café as she could. She went through the rest of her day numb to the world. _Was that what the Covenant did to people?! He looked so…defeated. No, his body still moved but his mind was gone or something. Like nothing the we did could even faze him anymore. What could he have seen?_

The black Spartan was jarred from her memory when her teammate slugged her in the shoulder. Rubbing the injury, she glared at him from behind her visor.

"The hell was that for?" she accused.

"Revenge." He answered cheekily, quite pleased with himself. Tiffany's scowl deepened, angry lines marring her smooth features. Trips down memory lane had never been sunshine and rainbows for the veteran specialist. They often left her remorseful, frustrated and generally in an unpleasant mood. This time was no different.

"Learn to give people their fucking space, Bretts." She snarled, shoving him out of the way before stomping past her fireteam leader without a word, leaving the other two to catch up. Patrick and Stephen quietly followed behind their only female member, using hand signals and gestures to cautiously communicate. Truthfully, they could have opened a private channel, but decided against it in the end. Tiffany was pissed off enough as it was. Talking behind her back would only add fuel to the fire. Eager not to die, the decided to leave well enough alone, already feeling sorry for the next poor bastards to stumble upon them. Marching down another grey titanium corridor with as much stealth as an elephant, anger surged through her system, fueling her movements. _Hypocrites! All of them! You know what?! Fuck 'em!_ Hitting the door remote hard enough to crack the display, the door slid open with a hiss, revealing three soldiers within.

Bringing her M45 to bear, she blew a fist-sized hole through the first enemy's chest before he could even _think_ about reaching for his weapon. Red gore, like the color of her anger, painted the wall behind him as his lifeless corpse was thrown over a table. _Fuck my planet! Fuck its government! Fuck its security!_ The second soldier managed to launch off a few rounds from his magnum in the time it took the angry Spartan to sprint across the room and drive her fist into his chest. His screams reverberated around the small room as his ribs shattered like glass. A few desperate breaths were all she managed to pull from his battered chest before the angry Spartan snapped her neck like balsa wood, tearing the last remnants of life from her body. _Fuck my teachers! Fuck my friends!_ The last soldier fired wildly, terrified by the fact that his friends had just been summarily butchered in front of him. The faint smell of ozone filled the air as the Spartan's shields flared, then failed as the rounds hammered away the last vestiges of her energized safety net. His submachine gun was slapped from his hands and sent clattering across the floor, sparing the rest of the room from further wanton destruction.

A heavy gauntlet clamped around his throat like a vice, damming up the slurs and insults that struggled to burst forth. He clawed at her arm in a desperate attempt to escape, but his deeds proved to be fruitless. As if pushed over some cliff by an unknown entity, Tiffany snarled behind her helmet, turning and throwing the man out of the room. He hit the wall with a heavy _thud_ and slid to the floor. Drawing his head up as slowly as a newborn baby, his deep hazel eyes stared into the unforgiving muzzle of a M6.

"Go ahead, end it, you UNSC bitch." He said menacingly, venom dripping from every word. He may have a concussion but that would not shake his loyalty. The other two members of Fireteam Oasis stood at the end of his vision, not eager to get swept up in her rampage. Surprising them all, she crouched down, her shadow sweeping over his form like an extension of her jet-black armor.

"Either you tell me what I want to know or I take out my adolescent insecurities on your kneecaps. What do you say?" She emphasized her point by tapping on said body part with her pistol. The man paled, but never took his eyes off her visor.

"Ha! Nice try. You don't hav-" She stopped whatever his was going to say by driving a bullet right between his eyes. Standing to her full height, she addressed her teammates.

"I hope you know I wasn't _actually_ going to torture him. That's not me."

"We know, Tiff. We know." Bretts reassured her. She couldn't help the butterflies that seemed to swell in her stomach, making her smile that stupid smile. Her team leader gave her a nod in agreement.

"Come on. Engineering isn't going to save itself." Their leader added, receiving nods from the other Spartans. In short order, Tiffany had recollected her weapons and they were once again on the path to Engineering.

" _Hey Tiff, I didn't know you had balls of steel._ " Bretts blurted out over the TEAMCOM, rekindling an earlier conversation Tiffany had thought she buried long ago.

"Well you see Bretts," Starr shook his head good-naturedly at the antics of his team as they rounded the corner. "I don't have balls. I have ovaries, which are made of much stronger stuff. And they put your metal marbles to shame." Tiffany would fondly remember the time Bretts laughed so hard he tripped over his own two feet.

 **December 4, 2561**

 **UNSC** _ **Infinity,**_ **S-deck maintenance duct system**

 **0035 hours**

Amber slid silently from the duct hatch down into the maintenance causeway, her black suit blending seamlessly with the shadows around her. Her muscles were extremely sore from crawling around in the cramped ducts for hours on end and her joints ached something fierce from banging them on the angular surfaces like organic pinballs. Stretching her muscles to relieve some of the pain, she glanced around the large space, intimidated, but her golden eyes still sparkled in awe. _Big…and kinda scary_. She swallowed the lump in her throat when she looked up and couldn't see the ceiling. The darkness could hold all sorts of scary things, something she knew quite well. Fear crawled up her spine like a feral creature, snapping at her consciousness like it would a piece of meat. A growl, raw and guttural, rose in her throat as she instinctively clawed at the suit that enshrouded her. The creature halted its approach, curiously eyeing the small saurian that sought to defy it. It was black as night, with dark and soulless eyes that seemed to consume anything caught within them. The creature, much like the faceless soldiers that tried to kill her and her mother, preyed upon fear, using this weakness to harm and maim anyone in their way. Amber didn't really understand what was going on, but her mother had told her to be brave in the face of fear. _"Things are only scary if you let them be."_ Her mother would tell her whenever she came crying to the blonde Spartan.

" _Do you ever get scared, mother?_ " Her mother would hum and nod her head, much to Amber's surprise.

" _But your never scared!_ " Sandra would chuckle, wrapping her daughter in a hug as she nuzzled the gray, leathery skin.

" _It's true that your mom is amazing. But I do get scared sometimes."_ Amber looked disbelievingly at her mother, like she had grown a second head.

" _What do you do?"_ She would whisper, looking to her mother to give her an answer. Sandra would look her straight in the eyes and whisper back.

" _I think of you and mommy."_

 _Think of mother and mommy..._ She chanted. _Mommy and mother. They will keep me safe._ She continued to focus on her loving parents, even as Fear lost its passing curiosity and began to stalk the small Elite once more. But like a bubble shield would protect a soldier from bullets and grenades, Fear's advances were halted by the alien's hope that burned within. She glared at the creature, her golden irises burning like a sun. _They will protect me. I am not afraid!_ The monster attempted to shield itself from the intense emotion with its inky black arms, but the burning courage within set its body alight. _I am not afraid of you!_ Screaming in agony, the creature scampered away to the darker places of her mind where it could rest and recover, to resurface again. Safe once more, her intense emotions receded to a steady, gentle glow, filling her small body with warmth. _I did it! I wasn't scared! Thank you, mommy!_ She cheered enthusiastically, throwing her arms into the air with abandon.

"Pick up the pace! The quicker we get there the more bastards we can kill!" a voice shouted over the rumbling thunder of the behemoths following in his wake. Amber's blood ran cold and she pressed herself into the darkest corner she could find. She watched in horror as a large group of soldiers stomped past her, their boots echoing loudly around the large corridor. A few looked in her general direction and she whimpered like a puppy, shrinking further into the shadows to present the smallest possible target. They looked like the people that attacked her! Suddenly she wasn't so safe inside of her suit. She wanted it off. _Now._ She clawed and tugged vigorously, but the six-year-old could not remove it. Busy with the suit she didn't see the mechanized armor until it was right on top of her. The tanks rumbled down the looming corridor, meters from her, their immense weight shaking her bones like maracas. Next came the jarring _whomps_ as a pair of Mantises marched past her like six-meter soldiers, nearly lifting her off her feet with each step. Her heart beat like a drum in her ears, seemingly in time with her erratic breathing as the large death squad slowly, cumbersomely inched its way past her. Finally, after what seemed like hours, the convoy rounded the bend and disappeared from sight. Releasing a heavy sigh of relief, she took a few moments to collect her thoughts, rubbing her arms in a futile effort to comfort herself.

"Where are you mommy?" She whispered to herself, mandibles twitching nervously as she took a few trepid steps out of the shadows. "I'm scared." In the absence of her loving mothers, the ship was twisted into a vile, violent place filled with danger. Before, nestled in the warmth of her parents, the walls of the ship made her feel safe and secure. Now they felt…cold, devoid of life. Like a prison abandoned long ago, they still held the scars of the unspeakable horrors that were carried out within the walls. The shadows that stalked her as she crept along the maintenance causeway were no longer unexplored places that begged to be searched. No, their inky black mass reinforced the fact that she was utterly alone. She shivered involuntarily as her reality gradually sunk in. Turning to look up at the vent she had crawled out of, Amber let out a quiet growl as she realized her short arms couldn't quite reach the sill to pull herself back up. And even though the kill team was out of sight, she was terrified that making any noise would draw them back. Back for her. Suppressing the rising whimper in her throat, she was left with only one option: explore the causeway until she found another place to hide. Closing her eyes, she took a calming breath. Though it was no warm hug, it would have to sustain her as she cautiously slinked out from the shadows into the open tunnel.

 **UNSC** _ **Infinity**_ **, E-deck**

 **0130 hours**

Sandra checked the readout on her BR55 for the sixth time in the past five minutes. _36 rounds. Just like the last time._ She allowed herself a quick glance to her lover who was patiently standing next to Fred as he buried his face into the internal control mechanism of a door. This was quickly and frustratingly becoming routine for the five Spartans. In an effort to stave off reinforcements, the rebel troops had disconnected almost every automatic door between them and the AI core. They had to clear the ship room by room, manually repairing every busted door to progress. It was an _excruciatingly_ slow process and Sandra was rapidly descending into boredom. The Master Chief had rerouted them multiple times under Linda's astute directives, but no matter which way they went it was going to be an agonizing process, something Sandra was quickly becoming unhappy with.

"How much longer?" Sandra asked, mildly curious at the fact that Kelly's armor was still white after all the fighting they had just been through.

"As long as it takes." Frederic growled out, also displeased at their slow pace. Sandra snorted, amused, as he refocused on his task.

"Eyes and ears open, Blue Team." Chief commanded. Sandra couldn't be sure, but she thought she could detect undertones of frustration. They were all on edge. The chatter died down for another few minutes, silent accept for Fred's tinkering with the controls. Unlike her SPARTAN-II companions, she was not really one for long silences. Most of the time she could accept their need for quiet, as was their nature, and the battlefield was no place for idle conversation, but this was _unbearably grating_ on her nerves.

"Why?" Sandra voiced a simple question then fell silent, waiting for one of her teammates to take the bait. Fred was too busy to be distracted by his purple companion, so he was a bust. Chief _almost never_ engaged in idle talk while in a combat environment, so he was a longshot. Kelly fell for enough of Sandra's little taunts to know not to take the bait. The brunette knew she would pay for it later, so she gave no verbal reply. The only one left was…

"Why what?" Linda questioned, taking the bait. Sandra smiled cheekily behind her visor. Like a fly caught in a spider's web, the sniper had no idea what she was in for. Kelly clamped her hands around her precious _Oathsworn_ in an effort to crush her spike in frustration. _When we get out of here I am going to…_

"Don't you think it's a bit _too_ convenient?" Sandra proposed, giving her doubts a voice. Linda didn't say anything, but from the subtle shift in her posture, she knew she had the sniper's attention. "How organized these guys are? How accurate their intel seems to be while we're left scrambling in the dark?"

"What are you implying?" Linda retorted, not being able to hold the undercurrent of accusation from her tone.

"That we got stabbed in the back. I don't know who or why, but this level of control so quickly is too difficult to achieve from a surprise attack." Sandra paused, waiting for a response. Apparently, Linda had lost her neve to converse, as she elected not to respond, minus rolling her shoulders to ease some of tension within. Either they didn't believe her…or they did, and they were hesitant to voice their opinions for fear that they would come true. Neither of them were a good sign. She hoped to find some support in her lover, but Kelly was making a conscious effort not to meet her gaze. Her jaw dropped in disbelief.

"You don't believe me, do you?" Sandra asked aloud, fearing that her outburst had somehow broken the trust the rest of Blue Team had in her. Those fears were quickly assuaged by the olive-armored legendary leader.

"We work with the intel we have. Until we know more, we stay on mission, understood?" Chief addressed his Spartans, though his words were meant for a soldier in particularly notable purple armor. Sandra nodded, a smile growing behind her visor.

"So, you _do_ believe me!" She cheekily pointed out. Chief pointedly ignored her, Linda rolled her eyes so fiercely her helmet followed the motions, Kelly shook with invisible laughter and Fred grunted, amused. Her need to communicate with others safely satiated for the time being, Sandra fell back into silence. She did not have to wait long as Fred finished rewiring the console a few boring minutes later. With a gentleness that one would not expect from someone such as him, Fred returned the control pad to its housing, tapping a few keys to cycle the power.

"Chief, we are live." Those few words brought back the heavy atmosphere that Sandra's light conversation had repelled. They were back on mission. Their leader's acknowledgement light flashed green once. Like a dance they had practiced hundreds of times before, the five super soldiers stacked up on both sides of the door. The panel lit up, eager to serve its human masters. With a nod, Fred hit the button marked 'open', and doors slid open with a less than quiet hiss, as damaged electronics struggled to carry out their tasks.

Shouting and heavy footfalls were heard the instant the doors opened, as the soldiers beyond were caught off guard, scrambling for safety. Brass rounds rained down on the doorway like a gold waterfall, painting the Spartans' armor in a celestial glow. As majestic as they looked, the door was an incredibly efficient bottleneck, concentrating all of the fire on their position. Linda was able to pick a few off in the sporadic lulls as their enemies were forced to reload, but these openings were quickly closed by nearby troops. Blue Team couldn't advance an inch. They would be cut down in the span of a few seconds, even with their shields at maximum strength. Chief would not even entertain the idea. They needed a new plan. They needed to adapt.

"I need options." He called out over the TEAMCOM, ignoring the pang in his chest from the uncertain fate of his blue-skinned companion. He swiftly suppressed it. There would be time to worry about that later. For now, he had to get them to the AI core. Luckily, for whatever reason, the troops weren't using the covering fire to advance. Instead, they seemed to be content on boring their way through the titanium walls with ammo alone. Slapping a fresh magazine into his assault rifle, the bark of his weapon was the only response, its rounds tearing through its target with ruthless efficiency. He growled in frustration as the fallen soldier was quickly replaced and he was forced back into cover by the return volley of lethal projectiles.

"You look like you can use some help, Chief!" His surprise was hidden by his opaque visor as he whipped around, rifle aimed at the fresh voice. The small group of soldiers raised their hands to show they meant no harm.

"Private Berty, sir. What a fucking mess." Although his visor hid his facial features, the slump in his shoulders and unsteady posture gave merit to the fact he had not slept soundly for a while, but he still seemed eager to fight. "We were on our way to Engineering when they hit us, the traitorous bastards. We got separated from the rest of our units and decided to reroute through the AI core." He looked upon the Spartans with joy, making them fidget uncomfortably under their armor. "I'm glad we did." He finished, tapping his SPNKr affectionately.

He was about to issue new orders when Sandra cut in over the TEAMCOM. _"Chief, we still don't know what the hell is going on. And if I'm right…"_ She trailed off, subtly gesturing towards the group of soldiers. Three green acknowledgement lights winked once in rapid succession as the other members of Blue Team agreed with her assessment. He had to admit she had a point. With some reluctance, he flashed his own status light, acknowledging their concerns.

" _Stay sharp."_ He ordered his Spartans before responding to the soldiers before him. They were weary, yes, but they seemed eager to fight. "Private, give us an opening. The rest will cover our advance." Their young, jovial faces lit up, as if it was their dream to fight alongside _The Master Chief_. It probably was. But they quickly nodded and assumed their positions. Crouching out of view of the enemy soldiers, Private Berty pulled the trigger on the SPNKr launcher. The foreboding _whoosh_ of the high-velocity rocket howled like a blizzard as it raced through the doorway and detonated, throwing fire and shrapnel in every conceivable direction. The smoke hadn't even cleared before Blue Team jumped into action. The soldiers laid down suppressive fire as Linda rapidly picked off targets, allowing the other four Spartans to race across the open room, unhindered. John was the first one through the receding flames, rapidly killing those who fired upon him. His shields flared under the onslaught and he dived into cover as his assault rifle clicked empty. Slamming home a fresh magazine, he stood to engage the rebels when Fred's DMR barked in his ear. Each round hit right in the faceplate with expert precision, dropping them faster than a sack of bad potatoes. Giving his teammate a quick nod in thanks, they continued through the lingering smoke, rifles barking like a pack of angry dogs as they systematically downed one target after another.

Kelly put a softball-sized hole into the belly of an overzealous ODST, spraying the floor and surrounding metal with what remained of the red, gory paste that had once been the woman's intestines. Allowing her corpse to fall unceremoniously to the ground, she pumped another shell into the chamber, searching for her next target. It was at this moment she realized she was alone. The purple Spartan was right behind her a moment ago, pounding at her targets with a BR55. _Where is Sandra?!_ Growling behind her visor, she dismissed any thoughts of her lover. The woman, as frustrating as she could be, was more than capable of handling herself in a firefight. Racing around a fallen scaffold, she eyed three Spartans who had John and Fred pinned behind a blown-out mainframe. They were steadily advancing, using the available cover and interspacing their fire so two never had to reload at the same time. Tactically, it was a brilliant maneuver, but it made Kelly's blood boil. The UNSC had given them so much, only to have it turned upon them. She suppressed her rage, opting to let _Oathsworn_ do the talking for her. Though she was too far away for the shot to be lethal, that didn't mean it didn't pack one hell of a punch. The 8-gauge shell lifted the Spartan off his feet, blowing away most of his shields and throwing him into a partly-melted gun emplacement. To their credit, the remaining IV's reacted quicker than Kelly anticipated. Keeping the other members of Blue Team confined to their cover with a long bout of automatic fire from a SAW, the second augmented soldier threw a live frag her way, forcing her to vault over the nearest useable cover. It was either that or be killed in the ensuing explosion. A blur of color on the rafters above caught her attention. She followed its movements, believing that the source of the red streaks was who she hoped it was. _Protect our own, little pup._

The woman above raced down the metal rafters as fast as her legs would carry her, her armored boots leaving shallow dents in the framework. Early on, she had broken away from her scout and climbed to the second level to provide her team with better fire support. The SPNKr missile had blown a large section of the floor away but she was able to clear it with a running start. From there, it was easy to pick off the few remaining souls that had not been executed by Linda, who wielded her heavy sniper rifle like an artist would a brush. The heavy bursts of the battle rifle punched through the troopers' armor, leaving their blood to drain to the floor below like a slow-moving waterfall. _Well-coordinated and heavily armed. Not a good combination._ Shaking her head to clear it of memories, she planted one foot on the railing and launched herself high into the air. Clearing the rubble at the height of her jump, she came down like a falcon diving for its prey. An armored, plasma sword wielding falcon. The rebel Spartans never heard her coming.

Just like in the action vids some of her fellow Spartans would occasionally watch, Kelly was rooted to the spot in what could only described as awe. She followed her love with baited breath as the shortest Spartan of Blue Team came down on the unsuspecting trio of armored soldiers, her twin red blades crackling with energy as they arced through the air. Sandra rammed them deep into the man's back, the superheated plasma piercing straight through, and he dropped like a rock as his internal organs boiled away in seconds. Using his smoldering corpse to break her fall, she rolled to her feet, swinging her swords in a wide, upward arc. The second Spartan had some sense enough to duck, pivoting off her backfoot to get a better angle on her surprise attacker. She backpedaled as quickly as she could, launching a burst of automatic fire into her advancing attacker. Sandra didn't bother dodging, it would have just slowed her down. The full metal jacket rounds hammered her shields, bathing her ostentatious purple armor in a brilliant, form-fitting golden halo. Today, luck was on Sandra's side as the frightened Spartan's assault rifle clicked empty.

"Shit!" She screamed, hastily throwing her rifle to the floor before practically ripping her sidearm from its magnetic holster. The rebel managed to get off a single round before Sandra was upon her. Bringing down her blades in a ferocious cross, she cut the woman's magnum into scrap. Like the wounds that would inevitably scar the survivors of this battle, her blades made their own mark upon this ship, marring the once seamless titanium with deep, angry gouges. Sandra's movements flowed like water, as evidence of her years of tutelage under a master swordsman. She carried the blade like it was an extension of her body, intending to finish the enemy Spartan off, faltering momentarily as her wrist was caught in a vice-like grip. The rebel began to laugh, believing she had somehow won, though it quickly morphed into a scream as she quickly realized the position she had put herself in. This purple Spartan wielded _two_ swords. By grabbing her wrist, the woman had just sealed her own fate. With more force than necessary, Sandra plunged her other sword up into the enemy's throat, lifting the poor soldier a few inches off the ground. She looked upon her kill for little more than a second before extinguishing her weapons, allowing half ton body to crumple to the ground with a solid _thud_. Even though the fight was over, her muscles twitched excitedly, still high on electrical signals. Sandra took a few moments to breathe slowly in an effort to calm her rapid heartbeat.

"Hey Spartan, you in there?" One of their recently acquired Marines asked, knocking on her helmet. Blinking dumbly at the interruption, her bleary vision cleared enough to take in her surroundings. As her ears could attest, small fires crackled harmlessly, throwing the grisly scene in a soft orange light. Bodies belonging to all branches of the UNSC littered the metallic battlefield. Like a gutted carcass left to fester in the sweltering heat, it displayed its carnage for all to witness. Blood quietly continued to pool from twisted and mangled corpses, plainly ignoring those who trespassed upon its thick waters. Linda walked slowly into view, rifle clamped to her back, a fallen soldier cradled in her arms. The sniper gently laid the ODST's body on the ground beside Private Berty. Wordlessly, she placed the soldier's tags into the Private's outstretched hand. With a nod, Linda returned to the other members of Blue Team, leaving Berty alone with his thoughts. Though he had yet to say a word, Sandra easily picked up on the sadness and anger that raged within the man. She knew because she felt it too. They all did. They just had different means of expressing it.

"I'm alright, Private." Sandra said, turning back to the soldier beside her. He jumped at the sudden voice, but said nothing further, only moving to rejoin his fellow soldiers. Sandra felt she should to the same. Allowing the magnetic clamps of her armor to take hold of her beloved gifts, she unslung the battle rifle from her back and jogged over to the only remaining Spartans in the room.

" _Linda?"_ Fred asked over Blue Team's private channel.

" _Unless the attack on the Infinity displaced the entire AI core, our objective should be in the next room."_ Their resident sniper stated, throwing a waypoint up on their HUDs. Mercifully, this time it didn't bob up and down.

" _Why was our objective not marked earlier? It would have saved us precious time."_ Fred retorted, mildly miffed.

" _I just followed the signs."_ Linda shot back huffily. Kelly snickered quietly as the fact that there were painted signs on the floor pointing to important areas slowly dawned on him. Fred grunted under his breath and left to brief the other soldiers, only the slight roll of his shoulders betrayed his momentary naivety. Sandra watched him go with an amused smile, hidden safely behind her ridiculously expensive visor. John and Linda quickly left their huddle to police for weapons and ammunition. Without knowing who they were up against, more bullets never hurt. With nothing more to do before they advanced on _Infinity's_ AI core, Sandra looked at her BR55. She was low on ammunition and none of the rebels she had seen carried one. _I am going to need another weapon_ , she though ruefully, not liking the idea of replacing the older model. She had become rather fond of the weapon. Her lips turned upward in a smile as something brushed her shoulder. Craning her neck, she caught a glimpse of white, brightening her smile even surrounded by such devastation.

"Why hello there." Sandra said, trying to keep her voice low. They _were_ in the middle of a battlefield after all. Not to mention the rest of their team was likely within earshot. Kelly elected not to respond verbally, instead offering a few magazines of ammunition. Smiling at the older woman's attentiveness, Sandra took the offered ammo.

"I noticed." Kelly said, subtly gesturing to the black rifle. Sandra nodded in thanks, replacing the dwindling mag with a fresh one. Now that the rush of battle had largely receded from her mind, Sandra was able to focus on other concerns. Like how her daughter was still missing on a vessel full of extremist rebels. The thought terrified her like none other. Amber was her little angel and if anything happened to her, it would completely break Sandra's will. Not only to fight, but to do _anything_. She would be dead inside. _I can't, no,_ _ **we**_ _can't lose her._ Doubt and fear clawed at her mind like ravenous, deprived Jackals would claw at a cage when presented with a fresh kill from their masters.

Kelly rested her hand upon Sandra's and all that doubt and fear were washed away, just like that. It was an innocent touch, compellingly warm even through the skintight suit. Sandra let out a soft sigh as her muscles relaxed, wanting more than anything to curl into the woman's soft embrace. But now was neither the time nor place to show such sentiments, instead she relished in the chaste touch, twisting her wrist enough to squeeze her scout's hand to show how grateful she really was. "We'll find her." Kelly whispered beside her, unable to completely hide the tense and fearful nuances in her vocals.

" _Breach in 60, Blue Team."_ Chief's steady voice ordered over the TEAMCOM. With some reluctance, Kelly let go of the shorter Spartan's hand. Giving her one last nod in support, she jogged over to the others. With a content sigh, Sandra keyed into the channel.

"Copy that, Chief." It was time to get Roland back online. With his help they might be able to turn this fight around, not to mention figure out what the hell is going on.

"Yeah! Let's turn on the lights. I'm tired of stumbling around in the god damned dark!" One of the few remaining soldiers exclaimed. _Yeah, that too._ Chuckling at the honesty behind his statement, Sandra stood beside the Master Chief, waiting for his countdown. Pumping his fist twice, John signaled the rest of the team to get ready. Sandra felt her muscles involuntarily tense for battle as adrenaline leaked into her bloodstream. A few precious seconds of silence passed through the soldiers, and with it a sense of understanding. They understood what needed to be done. They understood what it might take to complete that task. And they all understood that they had no clue what lay beyond that door. Chief then signaled the eight soldiers to move in. Blue Team was on the move again.

 **Come Back Next Time!**

So sorry this took me so long! Damn, has it really been over three months?! Totally my fault! School had me in a Spartan hug and wouldn't let me go! But now that it's finally over, I can **hopefully** give you guys and gals chapters quicker, but still have good quality. But don't take my promise to heart, things may come up. Wow, it has been almost a year and I am only 8 chapters in. The first arc of RW, by this time I was nearing the end of the story…oh well. Have no fear though, I won't stop till this series is done (even if it takes me a few years)! I hope you are pleased with this newest chapter. Be sure to favorite, follow and don't be shy about leaving reviews! I love hearing from everyone. Once again, big shout out to my editor, **MightyMIlkDuds** for his excellent work! Till next time, Halo fans!


	9. Mirage

**The Rabbit and the Wolfe**

Welcome back to another chapter of RW:CL! Sorry it took me so long, school had me super busy and I couldn't find time to write. But I'm back now! Hope you all enjoy the newest installment where betrayal runs rampant and loyalties are questioned! Don't forget to favorite, follow and review!

 **09: Mirage**

 **December 4, 2561**

 **UNSC** _ **Infinity**_ **,** _ **E**_ **-deck, AI Core**

 **77 Polar System**

 **0200**

Blue Team's armored boots rang heavily as the group of soldiers filed into the room. Quickly scanning the room for hostiles, Fred flashed his status light green three times: _all clear._ Sandra relaxed her grip on her battle rifle, allowing the weapon to dip towards the ground, to be used again if the need arose. The AI core was unusually dark, as not even the redundancy lights were online. Roland's physical home was usually brightly lit, glowing orange with his essence, as the AI's avatar would flitter about the room. This was mostly to reassure the technicians that they were helping another 'person'. The AI did not understand it himself, as constructs such as him required no physical form to live, he merely chalked it up to be a 'human thing' and continued with his work. The lack of his familiar glow or _any_ light for that matter was extremely off-putting.

"Ok, were here. Now how do we turn him back on?" One of the other Privates asked. Sanchez, if Sandra was reading her HUD correctly. _That is actually a good point,_ Sandra wondered. Though they were all familiar with a large majority of UNSC weaponry and equipment, rebooting an artificial intelligence was a bit out of their area of expertise. _Too bad Aura or Cortana isn't here. They would have him back up and running before Chief could pop the seals of his helmet._

"Chief?" Linda questioned. Sandra had the feeling the sniper was becoming antsy, only given away by a twitch of her trigger finger. She thought it was a bit ironic, considering how much time the tan sniper must have spent alone in a perch or silently waiting hours for that one perfect shot. The group waited in nervous anticipation as Chief worked out a plan.

"Blue 2, take the surviving soldiers and protect our flank. Remain in contact." Fred nodded, wrangling the last three Marines and jogging back the way they came. Once they left, the legendary soldier turned to their resident sniper. "Linda." Sandra was left surprised. She didn't think simply speaking someone's name could be interpreted as an order, but the evidence was right in front of her eyes.

Linda flashed her status light once in confirmation and slipped into the shadows, almost as if she was never there. It still amazed the newcomer how quiet the S-II's could be in their MJOLNIR armor. "Kelly, scout ahead. We need a fallback plan if Fred is overwhelmed." The scout nodded succinctly, turning quickly on her heels. The woman's sapphire orbs gravitated to the forests behind the darkened gold visor that protected her lover's eyes. Time seemed to slow as Kelly dropped the opacity of her visor to reveal her brilliantly deep sapphire oceans, flashing a quick hand gesture to the woman of her dreams before disappearing behind a titanium door. Sandra's heart fluttered in her chest at the gesture, but quickly pushed it aside. She had a mission to accomplish, after all. Her feelings would have to be put on hold until then. Refocusing on Blue Leader, she waited for his command, shifting her weight from foot to foot in anticipation.

"Get Roland back online. We need his support." Chief said, not electing not to offer anything further. With a quick salute, she jogged over to her task. _Yes, leave restarting the AI, clearly the most difficult task, to yours truly. Thanks, Chief._ She thought sardonically. Quickly arriving at main control panel, she got to work. Or what she _hoped_ was the main panel. With the power offline, the only illumination came from her helmet lights. It only took a few frustrated tapped on the blackened display before she realized her mistake. _No power, right._ The idea of banging her head against a wall until she killed the rest of her useless brain cells came to mind, but she quickly brushed the though away. Amusing though it may be, it would not help their situation in the slightest. Crouching down, she let her armor illuminate the cavity underneath the panel. it took her only moments to identify the source of the problem: the backup magnetic coupling had been disengaged from its housing, severing the backup power to the panel. Crawling underneath, the blonde picked up the connector, eyeing it curiously. _Funny. Such a small little thing can completely stop a smart AI in its tracks._ With a shrug, she inserted the coupling into its housing, twisting it until it locked with a dull _thunk_. Above her, the console thrummed with life, throwing a dull orange glow onto the panels around it, eager to be of use once more.

Sandra rapidly tapped in commands as her armor fed instructions via her HUD. So far, Blue Team had not reported any hostiles, but Sandra knew as soon as she booted Roland back up, their position was going to light up like a Christmas tree. If troops weren't already on their way, they soon would be. An angry beeping brought her attention back to the display before her.

 **ESTABLISHING CONNECTION…**

 **CONNECTION ESTABLISHED**

 **RESTORE SYSTEM POWER?**

 **[YES] [NO]**

Restore system power? If the _Infinity_ was hit by an EMP, especially a powerful one, she would be staring at a dead monitor. No, his systems were _deliberately_ taken offline. Most likely right before the rest of the ship's systems failed, to preserve his central matrix. This fact did not bode well for the nauseating feeling building in her stomach, nor for the dark, twisted theory that slowly built upon itself inside her mind.

"We have a problem. Well, two actually." She spoke over the TEAMCOM, doing her best to swallow the lump that seemed to sit like brick of lead in her throat. She plowed onward in her explanation, not waiting for a verbal response from her team mates. "Roland was not shut down by an EMP or any outside source. He was deliberately taken offline, physically disconnected. Most likely by those attacking the ship, but I can't back it up."

" _Are you suggesting…a mutiny?"_ Fred cautiously asked, as if he couldn't believe the words coming out of his mouth. Most likely he didn't, not completely. Sandra let a weary sigh fall from her lips, not caring if the rest of Blue Team heard it or not.

"Unless there is another ship in-system, which is _entirely_ a possibility," She continued, stressing the fact that all the signs and clues were pointing to a different answer. "But they would have be cloaked, invisible to the Pelican's sensors, or using some other method to avoid detection. The possibility is remote, but…it doesn't look good." Why was it always _her_ that had to deliver the bad news? She felt like Hermes, but only allowed to deliver the shitty memos. The channel was silent, uncomfortably so. It was as if a thick, poisonous smog had seeped into the members of Blue Team, smothering their ability to communicate.

" _What about the second problem?"_ Linda spoke quickly, pointedly ignoring the quiver of seething anger in her voice. The other Spartans kept quiet, but Sandra knew they were also concerned. None of them like surprises, especially during a mission.

"The second we boot Roland up; this place is going to glow like a bloody star. Everyone, and I mean _everyone_ , will know we're here."

" _We have our orders, Blue Team."_ Chief reminded them dutifully. Though he was still addressing the entire team, Sandra still felt small as his golden visor singled her out. " _Begin the sequence. We will hold here as long as it takes."_ Sandra's fingers flew across the keys, throwing a bright orange glow around the inky blackness of the room, clashing horribly with the purple of her armor. She kicked such trivial thoughts aside like the corpse of a grunt. The mission came first. Initiating the sequence, Sandra stepped back from the console, pulling the battle rifle free from the clamps on her back. A small, sad smile ghosted her lips as he hefted the rile in her hands. There were only two things she enjoyed holding more, neither of which were available to her. Choking down a small sigh, Sandra took her place in the dwindling shadows of the core.

The room exploded with light and energy as the Spartan drifted away from the console. The walls themselves seem to pulse with life as the AI was slowly brought back into consciousness. Like the beat of a heart, blue diodes pulsed to the beat of some unknown music. Heavy plating protecting the matrix of the artificial constructed parted, revealing the brain of the AI, which glowed like a small star. The orange tendrils of light seemed to reach almost every nook and cranny of the room, forcing the Spartans' visors to polarize. The matrix hummed with energy, carrying with it a sense of normalcy and relief for those frightened by the silence inside the ship. Conduits and consoles sparked with life as _Infinity's_ AI slowly reconnected with the rest of the systems. Blue Team let out a collective mental sigh as the warship's AI crawled through its reboot sequence. Turns out brining a ship-wide artificial intelligence back online was not as easy as flipping a switch. Minutes passed as the Spartans of Blue Team watched mountains of code fly across their HUDs at a mind-boggling pace, careful to keep an eye out for any encroaching threats.

" _Chief, contacts approaching."_ Fred spoke over the TEAMCOM, almost mechanically. _Well that didn't take long,_ Sandra thought dryly.

" _Friendly?"_ Chief questioned, hints of doubt lingering in his deep tone.

" _Considering Blue 5's warning, most likely not."_ Sandra couldn't help the feeling of pride that welled up inside her. They treated her as one of their own. As to why, that was a mystery for another time.

" _Copy that. Prepare to engage."_ Fred's status light winked green before he cut from the conversation, set on preparing a proper defense with the Marines.

" _Chief, I've got multiple contacts rapidly approaching my position. Should I engage?"_

" _Only if fired upon first."_

" _Understood."_ The scout responded stoically.

Chief unslung the assault rifle that clung to his back. Pulling back the bolt to ensure the rifle was loaded and ready to fire, he addressed the only Spartan within speaking distance. "Secure that door, Spartan. If Kelly has to fall back, cover her."

"Yes, sir!" Sandra answered with conviction, offering her commander a quick salute. In protecting her bunny, her skills were second to none. Once they had reclaimed the _Infinity,_ she would tear this ship apart until she found her daughter. _No,_ _ **we**_ _will tear this ship apart._ Letting her rifle drop to her hip, she picked up one of the hilts attached to her thigh, examining it closely. _Let them come. I want to see the look on their faces as I end their miserable lives!_ The ornate hilts bathed in the ambiance of the AI, as if questioning their wielder's motivations. Chuckling to herself, she replaced the weapon in its housing. _You're right, mom. Of course, you are. You always were._ Rage can be a powerful weapon if used for the right reasons. But if used indiscriminately, it can have undo, and often times, harsh and drastic consequences. Her mother's words chimed soothingly inside her head as she waited for all hell to break loose.

 **UNSC** _ **Infinity, E-**_ **deck**

 **0300 hours**

Reilcat's unit had met minimal resistance along the way. The service tunnels that ran along the majority of the _Infinity_ allowed their armor almost unrestricted movement to plow through any UNSC forces that had been foolish enough to mount a feeble attempt at a counterattack. His troops had no trouble eliminating these pockets of rebellion. They would not be denied. Though he would never admit it out loud, the main reason for the Scorpions was intimidation. He was not stupid enough to fire their main cannons inside. Everyone who had ever served on a ship quickly learned that explosives and vacuum did _not_ mix. At. All. Their suits were pressurized, yes, but they had a limited air supply. Haphazardly blowing apart the ship they still stood on was not in his book of acceptable risks to take. Though he could not smother the small smirk that crept up his face at the tanks many other uses, such a battering ram and using its coaxial machine gun to shred the UNSC dogs to pieces.

"Sir."

"What is it?" Reilcat snapped. Undeservingly perhaps, but he didn't really care. All that mattered in the end were that the men and women under his command followed their orders. Their personal attachments meant little to him.

"Castle is dead. Along with all the support you sent with him." The soldier spoke, almost in a whisper, as if his voice alone would draw his superior's ire. To be fair, he had shot messengers in the past.

"All of them?" Reilcat questioned, stopping the soldier from slinking back into the ranks.

"Y-yes." The soldier responded quickly. Reilcat summarily brushed away the urge to correct the young soldier as another thought came to mind. _Castle was instructed to intercept Blue Team once they boarded. If he's dead, then that means…_

"Sergeant, have any of our forces not reported in?" There were a few minutes of silence as the soldier attempted to contact the remainder of their forces.

"Sir," The soldier spoke up from behind him, "Bravo team's last check-in was at 0100. That was over two hours ago."

"What was Bravo guarding?"

"The AI core, sir." The sergeant answered succinctly.

Reilcat needed to act fast. With Blue Team back in play, the UNSC had a real shot of wrenching control of the flagship from them, ruining months of planning and millions of credits in payoffs and bribes. That could _not_ happen. He would die before he let that over-glorified tin lapdog destroy his chance at revenge.

"Listen up!" He barked over the TEAMCOM. "We split into two groups. Sergeant, take the armor and continue to Engineering. We need those engines under our control. No more than ten. I will take the rest of the troops to secure the AI." There was a shuffling of boots, dampened by his helmet, as ODST and Spartans alike broke into two separate groups. "Move out!" He could feel the determination in their footsteps as they marched through the corridors, deeper into the heart of the ship. _Good,_ he thought. They would need that determination to go up against the legendary Spartans of Blue Team and come out alive on the other side. _He_ would need such determination. But if things went sideways, he would need a backup plan. With a growl, he accepted the private connection that had been chirping angrily in his ear for the past five minutes.

"What!" He snarled. His day not had the best start and had only gone downhill from there. He was tired, irritated, and just wanted this damn mission to be over.

" _Watch your tone or this conversation will no longer be private."_ Reilcat bit his tongue to hold back the scathing words that would surely escape from it if he let them. Ducking underneath a bent bulkhead, he waited impatiently for his ally to continue. Just when Reilcat thought to sever the connection, the man on the other end of the channel spoke again. " _I have new terms."_

"We had a deal-" Alexander hissed.

" _And I am changing it._ _ **When**_ _you lose, I help you off this ship. Then I disappear. No questions, no tail, no negotiation. Are we clear?_ "

"I will not lose, but I agree with your terms." The other individual grumbled something under his breath, but Reilcat was unable to discern what was being said. "What about your little 'problem'?"

" _They will be indisposed."_ The voice answered assuredly. Reilcat thought to question his response, but held his tongue. Adding to his problems would not help him now. Besides, William had put great faith in him to complete this operation. Complicating matters would just make it all that more difficult. So, begrudgingly, he stayed silent and cut the private channel. He had bigger problems right now. Signaling the unit to stop, he crouched down bedside a corner that fed into a narrow hallway. _Perfect for an ambush_. With a series of hand signs, the troops moved quietly, a few scouting ahead of the rest. Their black armor blended in with the darkness that surrounded them, as if they were enshrouded by Death himself. One of them cried out in alarm, the staccato of automatic weapon capturing the last moments of his life before a thunderous _boom_ of an M45 painted the walls with the man's innards and lifted him off his feet, depositing him a few feet away in a crumpled heap.

"Open fire!" he roared, pointing at the assailant, the fire of battle burning within. Almost fifteen weapons let loose, the discharges easily casting enough light to see in the small hallway. The narrow titanium corridor left little room to maneuver, its walls acting as a makeshift bottleneck. Many of the rounds slammed into the shadowy figure, illuminating its position with the recognizable glow of an energy shield. Unfortunately, they ducked behind the next corner as their shields flared and died, temporarily overloaded. _Damn it!_ He cursed to himself as his target retreated into the dark bowels of the ship. He almost had one of the UNSC's poster children dead at his feet. But wishes were getting him nowhere, fast. He had to act if he wanted to parade their corpses before a camera. "What are you waiting for, an engraved invitation?! Follow them!" They advanced carefully, because as excited as they were, nobody was eager to get a bullet between the eyes.

Throwing a nervous glance to her two nearest compatriots, an ODST crept quietly around the corner, the rest of the unit behind her. With their night vision, they could see the entrance to the AI core at the end of the hallway. Perhaps intentionally, perhaps not, she let the Spartans overtake her, slowing her steps until she was with the main bulk of the unit. They had the best chance against their enemy in single combat. At least that was how she rationalized the decision as she gripped her rifle so tightly her knuckled turned white. It was unnerving how quiet the ship was. If one stopped to listen, they might be able to hear the air pass through the vents as they delivered precious oxygen to its inhabitants. It was almost peaceful, like breathing in the wonder of an untouched wilderness. _Too bad Blue Team had to muck it all up_. The soldier's wonderings were shattered when one of the Spartans screamed 'Grenade!' over the TEAMCOM. She hit the ground so hard she could feel something wet on her chin. Her split chin was the least of her worries as the grenade detonated, throwing shrapnel everywhere and making her bones rattle like maracas. The fragmentation explosives were especially deadly in these narrow hallways as the concussive blasts reverberated off the walls, intensifying the blast. Not to mention the narrow corridors left little room to hide from the vicious shrapnel. Throwing the dead aside like yesterday's trash, the survivors recovered their weapons and advanced on the core, covering their movements with heavy bursts of fire.

"Kill those UNSC dogs!" Reilcat roared, his shout somehow carrying from the back of the pack. Emboldened by his words, the unit charged down the narrow hallway with abandon, their feet carrying them forward even as their brothers and sisters were torn apart like piñatas on a child's birthday party. Letting the empty magazine fall to the floor, the soldier dove into a nearby doorway as another grenade flew into the hall. Her closed eyes may have protected her from the blast, but the dull _thump_ of the grenade and wet _splat_ as meaty chunks of her friends slapped against the walls would be burned into her brain forever. ODSTs and Spartans alike rushed past her, weapons weeping lead tears for all of the undeserved deaths these Spartans had inflicted. Her face drained of color as she peeked around the doorway. The floor was covered with blood. Over a dozen soldiers, including a handful of SPARTAN-IVs, were simply gone. Dead. A few had made it into the room, but had been instantly cut down. A few were even _smoldering_. As for the enemy? They had no casualties, as far as she could tell. That point alone filled her entire being with rage. Scooping her assault rifle into her arms, she stood up, preparing to charge into the room and kill as many of those 'legendary' bastards as she could!

 _Wait!_ Her mind screamed, its instinct for self-preservation kicking in.

 _What!? I am going to go in there and…_ she began, only to be cut off by the deeper recesses of her mind.

 _And do what? There are at least four, highly trained, veteran Spartans in there. You might get one round off before they cut you down._

 _I'll make it count_ , she retorted, checking the ammo counter on her rifle one last time.

 _Then what? Throw your life away like all the others?! What would that accomplish, besides a painful end?_

That gave her pause. Yes, she wanted to take down her enemies, but she was not about to throw her life away. She would regroup and take the fight to the enemy, but she would have to find her commander first. Looking around the battlefield, she did not see his body. The absence of a body did not mean he was alive, however. Swallowing the uneasy feeling growing in the depths of her gut, she checked the status of her unit. Quickly scrolling through the KIAs, she was pleasantly surprised to find her commander was still alive. _Well that's a relief,_ she thought, accessing his location. Her relief was quickly crushed as the words **UNABLE TO LOCATE** flashed in front of her eyes. There were only a few reasons for this: damage to the locator (which was practically impossible, due to the fact the tracking device was implanted in the base of his skull), technical failure, or it had been deactivated manually. Due to the fact his vitals were green, the first two seemed highly unlikely. Which meant…

 _Son of a bitch!_

He was running away! Major Reilcat had led them like lambs to the slaughter. Suddenly, her anger towards the UNSC was nothing compared to the unrestrained hatred of being betrayed. Now, Tamara Green was no coward. She had fought bravely against the relentless onslaught of the Covenant and the blatant imperialism of the UNSC, but being thrown away so her commander could get away? It was the straw that broke the camel's back. The irony not lost on her, she took off running back the way she came, silently praying that Blue Team wouldn't shoot her in the back. Her boots fought to find traction on the blood-soaked titanium floor as she scrambled past her fallen comrades, desperate to put some distance between them. Safely tucked away in an abandoned room, Tamara paused to gather her wits and develop a plan. She had no clue where her CO- _no, ex-CO-_ went, only that the lifts were out. This only left _hundreds_ of escape pods and _dozens_ of hangars that spanned the entire flagship. Too big an area to search. And with Roland offline, she had no other means to locate him. Anxiously chewing her lip, she paced back and forth, eagerly hoping that her mind would miraculously figure out his location. After five minutes of frantic brainstorming, she had come up with nothing.

"Ragh! Damn it!"

Glaring angrily at her boots, Tamara was faced with a choice: give up her search, allowing her brothers and sisters have died in vain or pointlessly scour every inch of the _Infinity_ in the hopes of a miracle. However, there was a third option: return to the fight and die fighting for what she believed in. As she had no leads to go on, this was the most sensible idea. The door opened with a soft hiss, and the ODST made her way out into the darkened passages of the ship, tracking the hovering waypoint on her HUD towards Engineering.

 **UNSC** _ **Infinity, E-**_ **deck, near Engineering**

 **0320 hours**

Amber poked her head around the corner, fearful of what she would find beyond. Four soldiers, black as the night sky, ambled aimlessly around a door. The young Sangheili had been following the kill team for longer than the saurian could keep track of. Like a shadow, she had kept to the darkness, using the suit to blend in to the nothingness that surrounded her. Suppressing a shiver, Amber did admit, disdainfully, that this _thing_ did keep her safe from the bad guys. There had been plenty of places to hide along the way, but something kept pulling her, like a moth to a flame. She didn't know what it was, only that she had to follow it. That is how she found herself now.

 _What are they doing?_ She wondered. She expected them to be cackling evilly and dreaming of dastardly plots, like in the vids mother allowed her to watch. Not…standing around. Her mandibles pulled taut in what only could be described as a confused frown as she observed the soldiers with her inquisitive golden eyes. The minutes quickly fell away and still the men continued to mill about. Amber's confused curiosity quickly eroded like the rocks at the bottom of a raging waterfall. _This is boring. I better find a spot to hide like the nice soldier told me._ The six-year-old's attention could only be held for so long before she lost interest and moved on to something else. Sandra and Kelly had learned this lesson early on as they had to pull her away from annoyed technicians, who were just trying to do their work, and off of more than their fare share of Spartans as their daughter was curious about _everything_. Her pension for learning new things had only grown over time, much to her exhausted parents' excitement. _Mother…mommy…where are you?_ Forcing down her loneliness with a strained whimper, Amber eased away from the corner, eager to find a safe place once again.

"I thought I saw something following us." Looking up, she came face to face with one of the biggest soldiers she had ever seen. With arms as big as tree trunks and no face to speak of, this soldier looked more beast than man. The ODST glowered down at the unwelcome guest in disgust. He had caught the shadows shifting more than once. At first, he thought it might have been cloaked operative, but they were too raw, untrained. Whatever or whoever this was, they didn't know how to blend in. They stayed out of sight, sure, but if one was looking for odd shaped shadows, they stuck out like a unicorn at a pig farm.

Amber looked up to the man, eyes wide, paralyzed with fear. Never in her wildest dreams did she think she would be caught! She should have taken the first hiding spot she came across and remained there until her parents could find her! Her brain screamed for her limbs to run, fight, to do _anything_! But they refused to budge. Her neurons fired off at a rampant pace, but her muscles refused to accept them. A deep seeded feeling of dread rippled down her spine, chilling her to the bone. And in the deepest recesses of her mind, that all too familiar beast reared its ugly head, eager to feast on the mind of the childling. _Maybe he doesn't see me._ She thought, tightly gripping on to the rapidly dwindling bundle of hope. Carefully, meticulously, she inched away from the faceless creature, making sure each step she took was planned and precise. Her enemy remained immobile, as if his words were spoken to the darkness itself, an attempt to cull spies from their shadowy abode. Amber got no more than a few feet away before the soldier sprang to life. Lashing out with a left cross, he grazed her faceplate, sending her sprawling across the rigid titanium deck. Pain swept over her face like a tsunami, dragging her beneath its thundering waters and drowning her in fear. She could taste something foul in her mouth and she could feel wetness slowly trail its way down her cheeks in a convoluted pattern, like a climber would scale a treacherous mountain.

"Thought you could sneak away from me, you little brat?" He spoke bitterly, walking purposefully towards the frightened child. In a panic, Amber did the only thing she could think of: she kicked him in the shin as hard as she could and filled the air around her with a shrill, blood-curdling scream that would put a banshee to shame. Almost instantly, the sound of armored boots could be heard thundering down the halls as the other four troopers rounded the corner, their headlamps illuminating the bizarre scene before them.

"What the hell is going on?!"

"What did you do!?"

"By god, it's a kid!"

The arguments fired back and forth until they were just shouting to be heard. Over it all was Amber's ear-piercing scream that seemed to flow effortlessly from her lungs. Silence descended over them as three shots rang out. Even the saurian's screams had shrunk to a low whimper. As the tail end of the gunshots faded into the darkness of the flagship, one of them spoke up, asking the question that had been floating on the tips of their tongues.

"So, uh, what do we do about it?" A male trooper asked, vaguely gesturing to the Sangheili.

"Shoot it." The big one who had hit her spoke simply. Amber curled into a tighter ball, whimpering fearfully as her tears began to flow again. The other ODST either nodded in agreement or said nothing, which he took as a green light. Bringing his M20 to bear, he pointed it squarely at her head.

"Hey!" A female trooper shouted, positioning herself between the child and the ODST. "What the hell do you think you're doing?!"

"What does it look like?" He replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Depending on how you looked at it, it was.

"It looked like you were going to shoot this kid!" She shot back venomously.

"So? Take a look at the damn thing. It's a squid. Why would you protect it?"

"Because it's a _child_! That's why!" Amber couldn't see, but the soldier was glaring at her compatriots, disgusted with their lack of morality. "Is this the freedom were fighting for!? The freedom to slaughter kids in the street simply because they're _different_!? You should be fucking ashamed of yourselves!" None of the other ODST could meet her gaze, even shielded by their polarized visors. Shaking her head in disgust, the soldier turned and kneeled before the saurian.

"Are you alright?" She asked softly. Amber lifted her head, gazing into the darkened visor of the soldier. Her head throbbed painfully, as if someone had used her skull as a drum. Not to mention that nasty taste in her mouth had yet to fade. Finally, she missed her parents dreadfully and couldn't help the gnawing pit that had begun to form in the depths of her stomach. So, in conclusion, no, she was _not_ alright. She expressed her discomfort nonverbally with a shake of her head. Concerned, she reached out, intending to comfort her, but yanked her hand back as Amber let loose a low growl.

"Stay away!" She screamed, skittering backwards, terrified of the woman before her. She needed to get away. She needed to find her parents. She wanted to be _safe_ again. Her golden orbs darted around the darkened corridor, desperate for an escape. Heart hammering in her chest like a runaway train, Amber felt her chest constrict painfully as air refused to enter her lungs. _The black! The black! THE BLACK!_ Her mind screamed as she clawed at the seals of her helmet, ferociously pulling on it with all her might. She needed it _off_. She needed to get away from the black before it consumed her entirely. The hope she had earlier wielded like a torch was no longer useful, just as candle would be quickly extinguished in a raging storm.

Tamara didn't know what was wrong, but she had to help, in any way she could. Batting the alien's frantic hands away as gently as she could, she popped the seals and removed the helmet with a whispered _hiss_. She sat back as she watched the young saurian take deep gulps of air, as if it was the first she had tasted in days. Golden eyes filled with unshed tears glistened in the glow of her helmet lights. Neither one of them moved, for fear it would break whatever silence had descended upon them. Slowly, Tamara eased herself into a sitting position to relieve some of the pressure on her knees, releasing a tired sigh. Amber looked at her curiously, but said nothing. In truth, she was still scared of the soldier sitting in front of her, but for reasons she didn't understand, she didn't run.

"Thank you." Amber whispered, flexing her mandibles freely in the open air around her. Tamara cringed, somewhat guiltily. Even after all these years, Sangheili mouths still creeped her out. She pushed it from her mind as she addressed the youngling.

"Uh, you're welcome?" She responded. "Are you alright?" She added after a moment, glancing at her motion tracker. It confirmed why it was so quiet: all of the other soldiers had left, leaving them to fend for themselves. _Selfish bastards_. Though she couldn't blame them for returning to the fight. Amber looked around, as if realizing that they were alone, before refocusing on Tamara.

"Y-yes. Are the space meanies gone?" _Space…meanies?_ The soldier tried to wrap her head around the phrase, but couldn't make heads or tails of it. Shrugging, she pushed onwards, wanting to be on the move again. From the looks of things, this kid was on her own. Besides, she still needed answers from Reilcat.

"Listen kid, where are your parents?" she offered, hoping the prompt would help speed things along.

Amber scrunched up her face in thought, before shrugging unhelpfully. "I don't know. Besides, Mommy told me not to talk to strangers."

Tamara fought the urge to roll her eyes. Both of them needed to get going if they were going to find the saurian's parents. "Well, your mom sounds like a smart woman," she complimented. "But are we strangers if you know my name? I'm Tamara. What's yours?"

Amber looked at her quizzically for a few moments, as if running the woman's logic through her own mind. Eventually, she gave the ODST a warm, albeit hesitant, smile. "My name is Amber."

"Nice to meet you, Amber." The soldier answered truthfully. After dealing with distrust, buried hatred and twisted ideologies for so long, it was refreshing to meet someone as unique as Amber. Even if she was a squid. "We should get going. We wouldn't want to keep your parents waiting, now would we?" she questioned, offering a hand to the young Sangheili girl. With a shake of her head, Amber allowed Tamara to pull her to her feet. The ODST only paused to scoop up the discarded helmet, much to the girl's abject horror, before setting off into the unlit passages of the _Infinity_.

 **UNSC** _ **Infinity, E-**_ **deck**

 **0500 hours**

Two sets of SPARTAN-IV boots hammered down the titanium halls at a rapid pace, easily finding traction on the bloodless surface. The fight for Engineering had been a drawn out, ruthless and violent endeavor as they pushed the rebels back inch by blood-stained inch. They had sustained heavy losses, but still managed to retake the engines. As the combat came to a close, UNSC troops offered those fighting under the URF banner an opportunity to surrender. Many, after seeing how many of their brothers and sisters lay dead beside them, their corpses still warm to the touch, lay down their arms. Some of the more zealous troopers took this opportunity to gun down as many of the surrounding enemy as they could. Some were successful, others…not so much. In the melee, Fireteam Oasis found themselves without their leader. Spartan Starr was nowhere to be found and Tiffany was worried.

"I'm telling you, Bretts, it just doesn't sit right with me." The specialist reminded her teammate for the umpteenth time. Doing her best to ignore the unsettling feeling churning in her gut, she pressed on, pushing her muscles to work even harder. Ever since the battle had ended, their team leader was nowhere to be found. And he wasn't answering his coms either. _I hope he wasn't ambushed. Though, he was right next to us the entire time. How in the world did we get separated?_

" _I get where you're coming from, Tiff. All I'm saying is that maybe there's a reason he left without telling us. New orders maybe?"_ Oasis's tactician responded over their private channel.

"That only included him?" She questioned, glancing to her right. He only offered a haphazard shrug, as if saying ' _Maybe. But I doubt it'_. Tiffany had her doubts too. She just hoped they could find their team leader before something horrible happened to him. Before the two of them had dashed off to find their third member, they had received word that Blue Team had made it to the AI core and were in the process of rebooting Roland. Tiffany let out a short huff of relief. _At least that is one worry off our plates._ As they rushed down metal corridor after corridor, it wasn't long until the monotony of it all lulled the woman into a state of reflection. _How many years have we been a team? Three? Four? Truth be told, I've stopped counting. We may not be the fastest or the strongest, but there is no one else I would have at my side. Stephen might be a stickler for the rules and Patrick may be a little too kind hearted for this line of work, but those two idiots are the only ones I really trust in a firefight. Come to mention it, Starr has seemed a bit off these last few months. If it concerned the mission, we would have heard about it by now. He doesn't talk about his family, so maybe that's what's bothering him? But to jeopardize the mission? It doesn't seem like him. I may need to talk to him once this is all over and done with…_

"There he is, up ahead!" Bretts shouted out loud, snapping the raven-haired woman from her thoughts and catching herself as she stumbled over her own two feet. The blue ANUBIS helmet stared at them in silence as they approached, hand frozen halfway to the door release.

"What are you doing here?" He asked warily.

"We were looking for you, sir." Tiffany answered. "You disappeared on us."

"I can take care of myself, you know." Starr jested, letting his hand fall back to his side.

"We know that well, sir." Bretts said with a chuckle. "Why didn't you answer your com?" At this, Starr seemed to straighten his posture, like a dog would to warn off potential threats.

"Took a nasty hit chasing after what I believe is the leader of this little rebellion." He responded, jabbing his thumb at one of the few hangars located near Engineering. At his declaration, Tiffany's face lit up like a kid in a candy store.

"Are you certain?" She asked excitedly, almost jumping with joy. She had to restrain herself from doing a happy little jig. She couldn't _wait_ till ONI ripped all the nasty little secrets he had stored inside his traitorous little brain. Show this scumbag why nobody messes with the UNSC. "Let's get in there then!" She squealed.

"No!" He demanded, seizing her wrist in an iron grip. "You have your orders, Spartan. Return to Engineering and secure it." Tiffany glared into his opaque visor, bitter words tickling the edge of her tongue. _That's a little hypocritical, sir!_ Luckily Bretts opened his mouth before she could voice any of her less-than-helpful thoughts.

"With all due respect, sir, Engineering _is_ secure. You disappeared, without coms, on a ship full of enemy combatants." He took a short breath before continuing, this time with a noticeable amount of pride in his voice. "Besides, were a team. And what kind of team mates would we be if we didn't help save your ass every time you got yourself into trouble?"

Starr chuckled, shaking his head good naturedly and releasing Tiffany's hand. She grumbled under her breath, wordlessly accepting a few pats on the back as Starr's apology. As the moment passed, Starr motioned for them to prepare for entry. Like a well-oiled machine, they slipped into position with nary a sound. Starr held up three fingers to give them a countdown.

 _3…_

 _2…_

 _1…_

Balling his hand into a fist, Tiffany hit the door release. Artificial lighting slammed into their visors like a battering ram, momentarily blinding them until their visors automatically adjusted. Basking in the florescent lighting of the hangar was a single soldier. Leaning against one of the many standard, green supply crates, was a man in battered ODST armor that had clearly seen years of use. While he wasn't old by any means, the war had taken its toll, turning a youthful young man into a grizzled, cynical veteran. Major Reilcat's stared coldly at the approaching Spartans with his jaded emeralds.

"Did the UNSC send you to fetch me?" He asked directly, though his lightly wrinkled face bore the true weight of his words. The man nearly recoiled in disgust as they left his mouth. Clearly, the man did not think highly of the organization of which he once served. Ironic, considering the position he was currently in. "How predictable. The UNSC always loved to send others to do its dirty work and clean up its messes." He scoffed, clearly not concerned with the three armed Spartans posed to kill him should he attack.

"Alexander Reilcat, you have dedicated yourself to the Army for years," Starr responded, ignoring his original question as he read from his bio. "In that time, you have served with dedication and valor to the best of your abilities. Come with us quietly and I will see how I can help you." At this, Major Reilcat burst out laughing, prompting a glance to pass between two of the Spartans.

"Then you are clearly deluded, Spartan." He said, dropping any sense of pleasantness. "Do you think you have any influence beyond that shotgun you wield? That anything you say will prevent ONI from sinking its shadowy claws into me the second you turn your back? You're only fooling yourself; you have _no_ power. At least, in the position you are in now." His green eyes glinted maliciously as he cast his gaze upon the blue-armored super soldier.

"What the hell are you getting at, you traitorous little shit!?" Tiffany growled angrily, not totally believing what this soldier was implying. She pumped her shotgun for emphasis, not caring that she ejected an unspent shell. She only needed one to blow his grizzled little face to pulp, anyway. Reilcat scowled at the CQC specialist, like she was something unpleasant he had stepped in on the street, before continuing his previous conversation.

"Do you always allow your subordinates to speak to a superior officer in such a manner?" He questioned before shaking his head, as if disregarding it completely. "I suppose it doesn't matter. I know you wanted to find your family. I can help, but only if you honor your end of the deal." A cruel smile broke out over his face as he watched the Spartan stiffen. In all honesty, forcing the Spartan's hand was the last thing he wanted, but Wilhelm would need him for the next stage and Blue Team was still alive and well. Unless he could enlist Starr's help in escaping back to his people, he would be a marked man living on borrowed time. He would not last long alone against the full might of the UNSC. And he really didn't want to spend the rest of those few days in some ONI hellhole that didn't officially exist.

"Sir, what is he talking about? What deal?" Bretts asked cautiously, wanting to turning around to confront his leader directly, but not willing to turn his back on a known enemy. A pained silence descended over the trio of Spartans like a fog, settling heavily on their tongues, obscuring any words that they tried to exhale. But then it happened. It was just a twitch, easily missed if one was not explicitly looking for it. An electrical signal transmitted by the brain to the muscles through a network nerves and connectors to carry out an action. But this action spoke volumes. That day, his action changed the lives of four different people. Quicker than lightning, Spartan Starr brought his shotgun to bear, like he had so many times before…and pulled the trigger.

 **Come Back Next Time!**

First, big shout to my main man **MightyMIlkDuds** for working his magic on another chapter of mine, making sure I give you guys and gals the best! As of the end of this chapter we are basically done with the _Infinity_ arc! From here it is off to the third and final act of this part of RW. For those of you who have read my bio, you already know, but for those who haven't… _**there will be a third and**_ _ **final**_ _ **installment in the RW series!**_ After that…I don't know. I guess you'll just have to wait and find out! But hold on to your drinks and keep your tray tables in their upright positions, because there is still lots of Halo action (and romance) to go!


	10. Through Troubled Eyes

**The Rabbit and the Wolfe**

We are up to chapter 10! Hope your ready because this one is the finale of the _Infinity_ arc! After this, the chapters will wind down again in preparation of the final part before the action takes it away again! For those of you who have missed the romance part, don't worry it will be back, just need to get the last hurrah out of the way first. Without further ado, to the story! Don't forget to favorite, follow and review!

 **10: Through Troubled Eyes**

 _Two years ago…_

 _The olive transport shook as it landed, throwing heavy red sand to the into the breeze. As it settled onto the barren rockface, its engines shuddered with relief, finally able to escape the endless dust that threatened to seal its air intakes and send it plummeting into the canyon below. With a hiss that could only be heard from the inside, the gangplank lowered slowly to the ground, fighting the sands for every inch. No longer shielded from the terrain, the red, gritty sand charged into the open crew bay like a horde of bloodthirsty mosquitoes. The occupants paid it no mind, safely sealed within their armor._

" _You know, I'm really starting to hate this stuff." Bretts called out over the TEAMCOM, clearly annoyed with the current weather._

" _You and me both, Spartan." Starr added, both amused with his team mate's comment and agreeing with it at the same time._

" _Why do we always get the crap jobs, boss?" Tiffany asked. Repeated combat in the sands had left her black armor stained red, giving it an odd coloration and lending credence to the fact she would have to wash it thoroughly before handing it back over to the resident technicians for diagnostics. They may have been good, but they couldn't work miracles. Trying to get any readouts on MJOLNIR armor caked with seven layers of sand would be impossible for anyone._

" _Because the impossible is our specialty." Starr spoke, as if reading from an advert. They stood up, filing out before the sands could completely cover the crew cabin. The door rose clunkily behind them, temporarily dictating the Spartan fireteam to the whims of Mother Nature._

" _You know, just once," Bretts began, his gold visor seemingly glaring at the sea of red around them. "Just once, I would like to fight the enemy on a nice, warm, sandy beach. Without the ecosystem's natural predators trying to eat me or the weather reducing my vision to a mere few feet." The other two Spartans chuckled heartily._

" _What self-respecting bad guy would set up operations on a nice Caribbean beach?" Tiffany joked as they entered the small UNSC outpost, which served as the base of operations and kept them safe from the ceaseless sands._

" _The smart kind." Starr added, amidst his own chuckles._

" _Right?! I think the UNSC should send out a memo to all of our enemies: LOOKING FOR A SECRET BASE? LOOK NO FURTHER THAN THE NEAREST PRIVATE BEACH! IT'S WARM, SECLUDED, AND BEST OF ALL, THE UNSC WILL NEVER BE ABLE TO FIND YOU!" The other two Spartans just shook their heads good-naturedly at Bretts's childlike enthusiasm at the way he approached things sometimes. Sure, he may have been a Spartan, but he was a child at heart and his Fireteam knew it. Tiffany rolled her eyes and gave him a playful shove._

" _Come on, we still need to debrief." Starr said, pulling them back on track. The three of them made their way into the outpost, their boots resonating loudly down the largely empty hallways, red crystals of sand trailing behind them like breadcrumbs._

 _It was not until a few hours later, after they had been debriefed, that the three of them were able to meet up in the mess hall. They all had a chance to get cleaned up and sat at a table by themselves, surrounded by idle chatter._

" _So…" Bretts began, poking uninterestedly at his food with his fork. "We have leave coming up, what are you all going to do?" Tiffany and Stephen paused in their meals to look at one another before refocusing their attention on him._

" _You asked. You first." They said in unison, making the tactician shrink under their combined gaze._

" _Uh, yeah…I guess that's fair." He said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Mom and Dad have a ranch on a small little planet called Bananatopolis. Thought I would-"_

" _Wait, wait, wait!" Stephen said excitedly, holding up his hands to stop his any further words from the tactician. "Am I supposed to believe you hail from a planet called Banana…topolis?" Bretts guffawed, shaking his head._

" _No, sorry. That's what the locals call it. Its actually a small outer colony world called Hacaria. Big banana producer. My parents own a ranch. Thought I would drop by and pay them a visit. Surprise them. Its been a few years since I've seen them. What about you, Tiff?" He finished, turning to the only female in the fireteam._

" _Heh, always figured you for the small-town kind of kid." She said, looking anywhere but at him. "Less farm boy, more…big man-child." He frowned, slightly hurt by her words. Butterflies exploded in her stomach. Damn crushes. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she continued. "I could go home. My parents would throw me a big, lavish party. But I'm sick of high class society. I'd be miserable the entire time. After I volunteered for the service, my parents and I stopped seeing eye to eye on a lot of things. I don't know if they would even want me to come home…" As she drifted off into quiet reflection, the team noticed how quiet it had become. Many others had left, leaving a few filled tables scattered about the room which lowered the amount of noise considerably._

" _What about you, boss?" Bretts asked, trying to break the silence and relieve some of the awkwardness that had descended upon them. Their team leader was quiet for a few minutes, calmly eating what was left of his lukewarm meal, before electing to respond._

" _Most of my family is dead. The only ones I care about are gone, vanished. There isn't anything to discuss." They could see the emotions churning behind his eyes, wishing desperately to escape. But like a dam holds back water, Stephen kept his emotions contained. Without waiting for any further conversation, he left the table, leaving his two subordinates worried and confused._

" _Must be a touchy subject." Bretts pointed out unhelpfully._

" _Yeah. Must be…" Tiffany answered absentmindedly, letting her words settle in the empty mess hall. She watched him disappear from sight before turning back to her companion, a marginally apprehensive look still plastered on her face. Though the two Spartans continued their conversation, they rarely brought up the subject of family when their commander was around. The few times it did come up, Starr quickly changed the subject. He never elaborated on what happened to his family and they didn't ask._

 _If only they had. Then things might have turned out differently…_

 **December 4, 2561- Present day**

 **UNSC** _ **Infinity, E-**_ **deck**

 **0520 hours**

It all went down so slowly. Or was that just tricks that the mind played to alter one's concept of perception to make a singular moment last longer than what it really was? It was like everyone was moving through honey, only this memory wasn't sweet. It wasn't coated in sugar, meant to be enjoyed, relished and shared amongst friends and relatives like a large package of sweets. No. it was a vile, horrendous and nightmare-inducing monstrosity that would haunt them all until the day they met their end. They would all have to learn to live with the consequences of their actions, as the weight of taking another life is never an easy one to bear.

Tiffany didn't hear the shotgun go off. She _felt_ it, in every fiber of her being. The trigger being pulled. The moment of impact with the 8-gauge shell. The resounding _boom_ of the chain reaction shook her to her very core. She expected the next moment to be her last, to feel indescribable pain before Death took her away. But she felt nothing. Movement at the farthest peripherals of her vision yanked her attention away from the smirking man before her. Craning her head to see, her mouth dropped and refused to close as she stared on in in absolute horror as her world fell away.

Spartan Bretts, a dedicated soldier and a trusting friend, let his rifle slip from his fingers. It clattered to the floor, but it made no noise. All Patrick could hear was the blood pumping in his ears. Strangely, he felt lighter, almost like he could touch the clouds. Feeling something tugging at his subconscious, he reached up to his chest. Where solid metal should have resided, there was only a sticky, open hole that throbbed weakly. With heavy-lidded eyes, he dragged his neck down to see what all the fuss was about. He could see _something_ on his hand, but it was difficult to determine exactly what it was. His brain was shutting down, overcome with shock, but he was intent on finding out what that liquid was on his hand before he closed his eyes. He was tired after all. Oh, so tired. He just needed a short nap then he would be back on his feet, right as rain. Bretts fell to his knees, his teal armor collapsing under the strain of its own weight. In the distance he could hear voices, maybe shouting, or maybe whispering. But they were muted, dull and so, _so_ far away…

Blinking away the encroaching blackness like an adventurer would wave a torch around a cave to scare off bats, he used these few precious moments to look directly at the bright red juice pooling on the floor under him. The answer was on the tip of his tongue, he knew what it was but he just couldn't _remember_! It was starting to irk him, and to make things worse the sleepiness was back and more insistent this time around. It called to him like a siren's melody, lulling him, gently encouraging him to come towards the darkness. That it was safe. Warm. That they would protect him. Patrick wanted to go with them, he really did, but wanted to solve this riddle of the mysterious substance first! Closing his eyes, he thought hard, rifling through his memories as fast as he could dreg them up. His body had begun to finally shut down, irreparably destroyed by the sheer amount of tissue damage and blood loss. His armor tried to compensate with biofoam and stimulants, but it was like trying to patch a sinking ship: hopeless. As the soft melodies began to drag him away, he finally remembered what it was called: blood. At this, he came to a sudden realization. _Oh, I've been shot._ This was his final thought as the remains of his lungs and heart gave one last heave in exertion, one final gasp for air, before falling silent for all eternity.

The specialist saw her brother fall, watched helplessly as his armor toppled unceremoniously into its own innards. Her mind was frozen, as if caught in outside all night in a blizzard. _Teal clashes horribly with that shade of_ red, her broken mind thought aimlessly. Perhaps it wasn't that the colors clashed, so much as the red was not supposed to be there. Certainly, not in _that_ kind of quantity. She stood on, immobilized, as Starr pumped his M45, already searching for his next target.

 _Um, excuse m-_

 _Wha- what happened?_ Another part of her mind stammered, interrupting the earlier train of thought.

 _Listen, I don't think this is the best-_

 _Is… is he dead?!_

 _Really, now isn't the best time to be doing this…_ Her instincts warned, eyeing the barrel slowly shift towards her.

 _There is so much I still wanted to say to him! So much left unfinished! Why is he gone now!?_

Out of nowhere, her instincts lashed out, slapping her consciousness as hard as it could. Surprised, not to mention mildly afraid, it stared on in silence as her instincts finally got their turn to speak. _Listen! We can cry, moan, grief, bitch or whatever the hell you do when you lose someone! But we can't do that if we're fucking dead! If you don't move now, and I mean_ _ **right now**_ _, he will splatter us all over the damn walls! Do you want that!?_

 _N-no!_ Her consciousness quickly shot back. Moving quickly, she ordered the brain to send signals to the muscles. Apparently, it was not fast enough, because her instincts screamed at her once more.

 _ **MOVE YOUR PETITE ASIAN ASS, SPARTAN!**_

She leapt to the side, her muscles straining from the effort. Only…she wasn't fast enough. Starr knew her too well; he could anticipate her every move. Quicker than the blink of an eye, he shifted his footing and sent an 8-gauge shell her way. The blast hit her like a sledgehammer and sent her tumbling across the deck. Elation filled her for but a fraction of a second, the time it took for her brain to register the pain. The blaring alarms and warning which screamed at her like a banshee went overlooked as her mind was only able to register one thing: _pain_. A blood-curdling scream was ripped from her lungs as her brain was overwhelmed with sensory information. Tiffany's MJOLNIR armor raced to compensate for the immense stress, injecting stimulants and coagulants, as it fought to seal the injuries with biofoam. It felt as though her arm had been dipped into ionized plasma, burning so hot her brain believed it was frozen. Everything was muffled, muted. Colors blended together until all she could see were blurry images that shifted from side to side like an old hologram. She could vaguely see the trail of blood and tissue that led to her current resting place as her brain slogged through the swirling mass of sensory input. Her eyes fluttered open as her implants fought to keep her alive, drifting in and out of consciousness. All the while a murky figure drifted closer.

Starr had watched her pathetically roll across the hangar with a mix of sadness and frustration. He was sorry it had to come to this, but if they had just followed his orders both of them would still be alive. Sighing ruefully to himself, he stepped over the mangled remains of Tiffany's arm. It had been a very clean shot, if he said so himself. The majority of the shell had ripped through her shoulder, shattering the bones and severing the muscles within. He walked through the pool of fluids, sending soft ripples through the mix of blood, biofoam and hydrostatic gel. Coming to a stop above her, he pumped his shotgun to chamber another shell, the old one falling to the floor with a soft but distinguishable _clack_. She would be dead in under an hour, he knew that, but as he pointed his weapon at her chest, the leader of Fireteam Oasis just couldn't pull the trigger. He didn't know why, but he just _looked_ at her. Tiffany's chest shakily rose and fell with each breath, her brain subduing or suffocating all other processes to focus on its survival. Without moving his head, he glanced down at where her arm used to be. In its place was a gnarled stump of torn flesh and bone, though one could not tell from the amount of foam covering the wound. _This was the only way to find my family. I'm sorry._ Without uttering a word, he turned and marched over to Reilcat, who was still patiently leaning against the crate.

"You done?" He spoke, throwing a disgusted look at the bodies of the other two members of Fireteam Oasis.

"Affirmative." Starr replied, climbing aboard the waiting Pelican, not bothering to look back. Reilcat quickly followed him aboard, activating the door controls to seal them inside.

"The coordinates are already programmed. There will be a Prowler waiting on-station. From there, just head to the rendezvous. My employer will be more than happy to part with whatever you require." Reilcat continued, sealing his helmet and strapping himself into the copilot's seat. Starr elected to remain reticent as he powered up the Pelican, practically sprinting through the preflight checks. Reilcat couldn't blame him for wanting to escape his choice as fast as possible. Though his resentment for the UNSC may run deep, even he doubted he had the strength, or stomach, to do that to his own team, no matter the potential reward. He had no words for the Spartan. What _could_ he say? The man had just murdered his teammates in cold blood for a change to find his birth family. So, he chose the wiser path and kept his mouth shut. The UNSC was still alive and kicking after all. That needed to change. The whine from the engines rose to a dull roar as the Pelican rose from the deck. The hangar momentarily flooded with cyan light as the dropship blasted out into the vast expanse beyond.

 **UNSC** _ **Infinity, C-**_ **deck, Bridge**

 **1020 hours**

Lasky sat in his chair, massaging his creased brow slowly, trying to relieve the building headache. The past few hours had been a nonstop stream of arrests, repairs and paperwork. He could feel the wound on his head beginning to throb once more, less painful after it had been cleaned and bandaged but still as insistent. As if it was reminding him of something he had forgotten to do. And with a list as big as the one he was currently staring at, he would be surprised if he _wasn't_ forgetting something. He felt something heavy fall on his shoulder and give a reassuring squeeze. Craning his neck around, he looked into the cyan visor of Commander Palmer, giving her a small smile. To him, it felt more like a grimace.

"How are you holding up?" She asked. From the tone of her voice, he guessed any answer that was not the absolute truth would not be well received.

"Would you believe me if I said I was fine?" He answered, injecting as much humor as he could. Which, given the situation, wasn't much.

If her crossed arms were anything to go by, she didn't. "That's not funny, Tom. We have a lot of work ahead of us. I-We can't have you burning out." He did smile a bit at that. Even in spite of the glare the Commander surely sent his way.

"I won't, promise." There were a few tense moments of silence before Palmer uncrossed her arms and relaxed. Well, as relaxed as one could be in a post-mutiny situation.

" _A moment, Captain."_ Roland's calm voice spoke as his avatar winked into existence on the holotable.

"How are we looking Roland?" Lasky asked, dreading the answer. In truth, it was good to hear his voice again. The silence had been unnerving and got to him more than he would care to admit.

" _To put it plainly, sir, were still sitting ducks. We have limited engines, weapons and communications, with more systems coming online with every passing hour. But its slow going. The URF really made a mess of the place. My systems still aren't operating at one hundred percent, but reports indicate there are still pockets of resistance, infighting, mechanical issues…the list goes on and on."_ He paused a moment, the AI equivalent to collecting his thoughts, before addressing Lasky once more. " _The way I see it Captain, the only viable option we have at this point is to return to Earth. It's the only colony capable of repairing and resupplying the Infinity, not to mention they have the resources to vet and approve every person aboard this vessel."_ Lasky tapped his chin in thought as the AI's voice faded and his avatar winked out. Roland was right. This was going to be a monumental task, no matter what way he looked at it. Though one thing was clear: without help it would be neigh insurmountable.

"What do you think, Commander?"

Palmer rolled her shoulders, like she was prepping for a bout of CQC training before answering. "Roland is right, sir. The longer we stay out here, unprotected and without viable communications, the more danger we put ourselves in. Earth is our only choice, though I am unsure about the integrity of the hull-"

" _The hull will hold, Reclaimer. With some of the adjustments we have made to the shields, a single slipspace jump is possible."_ Aura chimed in, completely ignoring the Commander's growl at being interrupted.

"Adjustments? Aura what do you me- You know what? It's probably better that I don't know what the two of you have been doing down there." Came Lasky's knowing but exasperated reply.

" _No offence, sir, but it is probably for the best that you don't. Dr. Glassman and the other engineers aren't exactly happy either."_ Cortana added warily.

"We can sort those problems out later. Right now, I just want our engines back online." They acknowledged his orders before cutting the channel to get back to work.

"Roland, how long before we can get moving again?" Lasky asked, feeling his headache worsening by the minute. He needed to lie down and rest. One of the ship's doctors ordered that he receive at least eight hours of sleep. So far, he had managed less than three. Not a good start.

" _At least six to twelve hours. A day at most."_ _Great. Just what I need. Another headache._

"Get some rest, sir. I can handle things here." Palmer said, resting her hand on his shoulder once again. Lasky gave her a small smile and a nod. He could count on her to keep things running smoothly and she was smart enough to wake him if she was unable to do so by herself. But he had one last order to give before going to bed.

"See to it that Blue Team gets some rest." He continued in spite of the curious brow she surely had raised behind her visor. "You have my authority on that one, Sarah." That brought a chuckle out of the Commander. They both knew how stubborn _those_ Spartans could be. Rising from his chair, Lasky made his way off the bridge, saluting those he passed. _Ugh. That's one headache off my plate. But the situation with Halsey will need to be dealt with sooner rather than later before Spartan Wolfe…clashes with the doctor's…determined personality. But that can wait. Time to get some sleep, just like the doctor ordered._ Slipping inside his quarters, he paused only long enough to remove his boots before crawling into bed and quickly falling into an exhausted slumber.

 **USNC** _ **Infinity, S-**_ **deck**

 **1030 hours**

Kelly anxiously shifted from foot to foot, guarding their rear, as they swept through another maze of connected rooms and passages. After bringing Roland back online and surviving the ensuing onslaught, the Spartans were tasked with culling that remaining pockets of resistance and locating survivors. In actuality, however, they were only really looking for one particular individual: Amber. She wouldn't rest until she found her daughter, as long as it was within the confines of the mission. _The mission_. She had quickly come to hate that part of herself, the soldier within, when it came to her daughter. Or was it the soldier part of her resenting the fact that she had a liability, a daughter? This conflict raged within her like two great armies going to war, always trying to overpower the other, force them to see things from their point of view. But it was the young Sangheili that allowed her to see a different side of the war, of herself. A part that she had almost forgotten existed. A collection of distant memories that smelled of honeysuckle and rosemary. Ones which radiated with laughter, sunshine and the feeling of freshly cut grass beneath her bare feet. A _different_ life, something which she didn't think was possible until she met Sandra. The blonde, in all of her frustrating, obnoxious and (admitted only in private) sexy glory, had shown the veteran scout what it was like to be loved and wanted. She would go to the ends of the Earth (and beyond) to protect her family. She would not stop to rest until she found her beautiful little daughter.

" _Blue Team, do you copy?"_ The Commander's voice crackled over the com.

" _This is Sierra 117. Go ahead, Commander."_ Chief's deep voice rumbled back.

" _Get some rest. At least six hours. This is a standing order from Captain Lasky."_ Kelly had to bite her tongue to hold back the growl the raced to the front of her throat. She _needed_ to find Amber: she wouldn't be able to sleep soundly without her joyful presence. Her silence did not extend to the entirety of the team, as she could hear muttered, indistinguishable curses emanating from the youngest member of Blue Team.

" _Understood. 117, out."_ The crackle of the damaged com line cut out sharply, signaling the end of the conversation. Kelly could feel the anger begin to churn within her, black and consuming, like tar. She only wanted one thing, _one!_ And she couldn't have it! Amber was close, she could feel it. It wasn't something she could see, or even describe, she just _knew._ Clutching _Oathsworn_ in a vain attempt to comfort herself, she waited impatiently for the others to return.

Sandra walked next to her as the five of them made their way back to the armor bay. Though most of the fighting had come to a bloody conclusion, they remained alert all the same. Lowering their guard could easily land them with a bullet to the back of the skull. None of them mentioned it, but they could all feel a rift of mistrust and anger divide those aboard the flagship. Soldiers watched their fellow man and woman with the same amount of suspicion as they would a cornered animal. If a goal of this Wilhelm Sundance and his URF cell had been to sow mistrust, he had succeeded, brilliantly. She felt someone bump her side, nudging her from her dark thoughts. Glancing over, Kelly caught the blonde's hands as they flowed soundlessly through the air. So graceful, beautiful.

' _Are you ok?'_ Kelly mulled this question over. For a split second she thought to deflect or lie about her problems, bury them under her training and veteran demeanor. But how would that help? If anything, it would just add to the growing list of Sandra's worries. The last thing she wanted to do was worry the woman further. So, with a deep breath, she revealed her true thoughts to the shorter Spartan.

' _No._ ' She signaled with a quick hand gesture. It was still difficult to open up about certain things, but unsurprisingly, it became easier with each passing day with her angel by her side. Sandra shot a glance to the others before leaning in close to her. Kelly felt that familiar warmth rise in her chest, longing to reach out and just hold her, even if it was for just a moment.

"Anything I can do?" Sandra whispered just loud enough for the scout to pick up, her voice ringing with concern.

' _Hold me. Please.'_ Kelly gestured rapidly, knowing full well how uncharacteristically vulnerable she was being, and it scared her. Her control was slipping with each passing minute as the unknown fate of their daughter gnawed away at the training and implants, like a lion would a carcass. The swordswoman's stumble was quick, hardly breaking the stride of her armored boots. But Kelly could see the confliction written clear across her tinted visor, the twitch of her hands as they yearned to reach out and comfort the older Spartan, soothe her worries away. Throwing caution to the wind, Sandra reached out and gave her lover's hand a quick squeeze. It wasn't much, but it offered an instant of contact, something she had been desperately craving ever since they boarded the _Infinity_ , no matter how deplorable or pathetic it sounded to the soldier within.

" _Contact."_ Chief called out over the TEAMCOM, bringing the Spartans to a halt. The corridor was largely lit, with only a few pockets of darkness established with blown-out lighting. In one patches of darkness lurked a lone figure. They had undoubtedly spotted the Spartan team, but oddly enough, had neither engaged nor ran for the hills.

" _Options?"_ Linda questioned, not taking her eyes from the scope that was centered on the creature's head. Though they had been given orders to get some rest, the Commander never said _when_ they had to get their sleep, only that they had been required to recuperate for at least six hours. Engaging this individual was still within the boundaries of the mission. With that in mind, Chief made his decision.

" _Stay sharp."_ Status lights winked green as he took a step forward, rifle raised, finger hovering over the trigger. "Identify yourself." His voice echoed down the metal passage, reverberating off the titanium like a tuning fork. Hushed and hurried words greeted their ears as the figure spoke with someone else out of sight. He only caught a few words of the conversation before the figure stepped out into the light, weapons raised. An assault rifle in one hand and a magnum in the other, it wasn't practical for a non-Spartan, but would intimidate most people into backing off. Unfortunately, the Master Chief was _not_ most people. The figure was adorned in ODST armor, black as the darkness they had come from, the opaque visor not giving any hint to the identity behind it.

"I won't let you take her." The figure finally spoke in a hostile but distinctly feminine tone, ignoring Chief's initial question and taking a few cautious steps further into the light. Linda and Fred shared a glance as the final two members felt their hearts climb into their throats. _Could it be?_ But no matter how much they wanted to know, they kept their tongues in check.

"Take who?" Chief replied, undertones of curiosity creeping into his words.

"You can have her over my dead body, UNSC bastards!" The woman snarled, not providing any further information. John was quickly becoming frustrated by the woman's lack of information, not to mention the threat she still posed to his team.

"Stand down." He tried again.

"Like hell I will." She growled out, edging back towards the darkness. John couldn't let her go as she could jeopardize others aboard this vessel. It was a shame he had to end yet another life he had sworn to protect but the safety of this ship was a mission he would see to the end, no matter the cost. The muscles in his hand contracted, like they had thousands of times before, but a voice stopped him mid-pull.

"Is it safe?" Six visors lasered in on the quiet voice that sprang from the shadows. Kelly and Sandra felt relief flood their veins like nothing they had ever experienced before. Like a storm surge, it raged from the depths, drowning out all of their fears until only one emotion emerged from the waters. There were a hundred questions they wanted to ask, but they had to get their daughter back first. That was easier said than done.

"No! It's- How did you- Go! RUN!" She screamed, almost panicking now. She opened fire on the Spartans: a few shots bounced off their shields, forcing them to shimmer like rippling, golden water, but most of them went wide. Clearly, the technique was no more than a show of force, as the weapons clattered to the ground shortly after she disappeared. None of them returned fire, although some were less than eager about the pacifistic approach.

"Chief?" Kelly questioned, the request for permission remaining unspoken, but there nonetheless. Sandra would have added something, but she was too busy trying to bore holes into the sniper with a nasty glare. To her, Linda's lack of hesitancy at blowing the soldier's skull into teensy pieces in front of their daughter was a big no-no in her book. Amber already had enough traumatic experiences to last a lifetime: she didn't need any more nightmares. Linda was not one to back down easily, firing an equally icy one back at the shortest Spartan.

"Go." The words hadn't even left his mouth before two sets of boots thundered down the halls like a runaway train. Kelly and Sandra knew how much noise they were making, they just didn't care. Amber was so close, within their grasp. Worry, which had plagued them both for days began to lift from their hearts. But they wouldn't truly be happy until they held her in their arms once more. And if they had to go through an army to do it, so be it. No price was too high for their little angel.

" _Was that wise, Chief?"_ Linda asked over the TEAMCOM, still blinking blankly at the empty space that held a purple Spartan not moments before. John gave a slight shrug of his shoulders, nonverbally voicing his uncertainty. Honestly, he didn't know if he made the right decision or not, but he had made a choice and was going to stand beside it, no matter the consequences. Lasky and Cortana had both reminded him that soldiers aren't machines, they're just people. _Just people…_ Perhaps that was why he allowed Kelly and Sandra to rescue their daughter. Perhaps it was some shred of humanity that still existed within him. Or it could have been something else entirely. Maybe it was time to talk to Cortana about which one of them was truly the machine…

"We have our orders, Blue Team." He ordered, resuming their pace to the Spartan armor facilities. Fred and Linda fell into step behind him. With any luck, Sandra and Kelly would be back before the Commander or anyone else got wise of the women's plans.

* * *

Tamara sprinted down the passages as fast as her legs would carry her. She could feel the sweat begin to trickle down her sides and the lactic acid build in her legs. But she didn't stop, she _couldn't._ it was her duty to keep this young child safe from harm, _especially_ from the UNSC. In all honesty, the Spartans of Blue Team would probably do nothing more than to relocate her, but that didn't stop her mind from warping those scenarios from within, twisting them like the gnarled branches of a dead tree. As if called by a sixth sense, Amber reared her head from the soldier's chest, looking into the eyes that lay behind the polarized visor.

"I'm sorry. You told me to be quiet, but I-I got curious…and-and…" She whimpered, somehow still loud enough to hear over the blood pumping in her ears and what sounded like a herd of elephants rampaging through the underbrush behind her.

"It's alright. We all make mistakes." Tamara replied with a grunt as she repositioned the young Sangheili in her arms. It was still surprising how heavy the young alien girl was. Amber nodded and tightened her grip around the ODST, weather in fear of losing her grip or some other reason, Tamara couldn't tell. But the woman _did_ hear the ear-splitting scream that blasted from the alien's lungs as one of the Spartans smashed through the doors right behind her, sending shards of metal outward. Man, that girl had some serious lungs on her! Chancing a glance backward, she immediately regretted it. Cloaked in the glow of the energy swords, the Spartan looked like the replacement for Death. _The only thing missing is the cloak and the scythe_. But the super soldier didn't need them. No, she was absolutely terrifying, even without the accessories. The red glow that seemed to surround the soldier in an aura of hatred and malice that Tamara was certain was aimed _solely_ at her. The purple color of the Spartan's armor was no longer visible, swallowed up angry glow of the blades and snuffed out by the shadows that surrounded them.

"Oh shit!" Tamara shouted, forcing her legs to go faster. Amber said something in response, but her words were lost in the chaos. _Keep running girl! Don't stop!_ Her mind chanted to her in support. Her lungs felt like they were swallowing lava, they burned so bad. Her legs screamed, pleaded, for her to stop. But they were they only thing keeping the ODST from meeting what would surely be a painful, agonizing end at the ends of those swords. Tamara knew she couldn't outrun the Spartan, but perhaps if she could…

Her breath caught in her throat as she felt her legs kicked out from under her. On instinct, she curled tightly around the Sangheili child, protecting her from the brunt of the impact. Tamara landed painfully on her back, hard enough to knock the air out of her lungs, even through the armor. throwing caution to the wind, she let go of Amber as she completed her rotation. Amber would have a few scrapes and bruises, but at least she wouldn't be crushed under the woman's weight. Opening her arms, Amber let out a squeak in surprise before she was tossed further down the passage as if she weighed nothing more than a feather. _Damn it!_ She mentally cursed herself as she waited for oxygen to return to her. The woman was so focused on the Spartan with the energy swords she had completely forgotten the fact that their may have been more than one.

"Check on her." Sandra said, stepping into her field of vision, hovering over her with her crossed blades a safe distance from her throat. Kelly stepped over the dazed ODST, closing the distance in a few quick steps, and gently scooped Amber into her arms.

"Amber?" Kelly said softly, worry gnawing at the back of her mind _. If this woman had hurt her in any way…_ Those thoughts were quickly shoved aside as a tired groan escaped Amber's mandibles.

"Mommy? Mommy, please let me sleep. I'm tired." She started, exhaustion evident in her tone. Closing her eyes for just a few moments, Kelly's mouth twitched upwards in a smile as she continued to run her thumb soothingly across her head. "MOMMY?!" She shrieked, catching all three women by surprise. Sitting up in the scout's arms at a speed even Kelly would be jealous of, she wrapped her arms around her mommy's neck in a vice-like grip as she shook with noisy sobs. "M-M-Ms. Tamara said we might never find you! I was so scared. There were so many teri-turi-bad people!" She interrupted her story with bouts of fierce nuzzling and leaving a lingering coat of saliva on Kelly's visor from her kisses. There would be plenty of time for playful nips later.

"Your safe now, little one. No one can hurt you anymore." Kelly reassured her, squeezing her just a bit tighter and gently nuzzling into her daughter's chest. Truthfully, it didn't feel real with her helmet still attached, but until they were safe it would have to do. The scout was still riding an emotional high, so overcome by the outpouring of emotions her muscles were twitching. But she didn't care: they would calm in time. Most importantly, she had her daughter back. Kelly stood up, taking great care not to aggravate any unseen injuries their daughter may have. Taking a few unsteady steps over to her lover, she passed their greatest treasure off to their other half, before focusing her gaze and what was most certainly an unhealthy amount of cold ire towards the soldier on the ground. To their credit, she had not moved, only silently shifting her gaze between the two Spartans. Unclipping _Oathsworn_ from her back, she pointed it at the soldier, no, Tamara, her finger being the only thing standing between the ODST and an 8-gauge shell.

Eventually, Sandra returned, Amber safely cradled within her arms. Still wide awake, she seemed to have calmed down somewhat, though one really couldn't see past the tear-stained face and megawatt smile that threatened to split her mandibles in two. Turning only enough to see her pup out of the corner of her eye, the two Spartans quickly became engaged in a silent conversation of rapid hand gestures and subtle movements. It was all a little strange to Tamara, a conversation without words. Its like they were two halves of the same person. Interesting, but kind of creepy. But there was one question she still needed an answer to. Swallowing the fear that surged at the fact she was literally staring down the barrel of a shotgun, she cleared her throat loudly, pulling the Spartans from their conversation.

"I have a question to ask. Answer that, and I'll do whatever you want, no questions asked." The two Spartans exchanged a look so quick that Tamara swore she would have missed if she blinked. The purple one took a half step forward and addressed her.

"And if we don't?" Sandra answered, her tone challenging, yet somehow uncondescending. Even with Amber in her arms, they all knew who had the upper hand.

"I'll still do whatever you want, no questions. I just want to know." Sandra mulled it over for a few moments. Coming to her own conclusion, she opened her mouth, but Kelly beat her to the punch.

"Ask." Kelly spoke up from behind her lover. Coming from a SPARTAN-II, it sounded more like an order than a confirmation. But a yes was a yes.

"Are you really her parents?" She knew the answer was stupidly obvious at this point, but she still had to know. Somehow the idea of Spartans, especially ones of Blue Team's caliber, to be parents…it just felt…odd to her.

"Yes." Sandra answered, pulling her daughter closer to her MJOLNIR armor.

"I take it that's not the full story."

"The Captain will want to have a word about your…involvement." Kelly fired back bitterly, completely ignoring the ODST's question. Frowning behind her visor, she stood up, placed her hands behind her head and interlaced her fingers. She had seen the child to her parents, as surprising as it turned out to be, and completed her mission. Revenge would have to wait for another time. She had not taken more than a step when a hand landed heavily on her shoulder. Tamara could have almost called the woman's voice seductive, if it were not for the blatantly threatening tone.

"Thank you for finding our daughter," She began, before pausing to ignite one of the plasma swords clipped to her hips, bringing the weapon close enough to Tamara's face that she could feel the heat radiating off of it. And try as she might, she couldn't keep her emotions at bay, as her body shivered with fear. "but if you try anything, or I find out that you hurt her in _any_ way. I will hunt you down and flash-boil your limbs one by one until nothing remains. Are we clear?"

"Like fucking glass, ma'am." Tamara responded automatically. She let out a breath as the woman removed her hand from her shoulder, but kept the sword lit. The light shove came from nowhere, sending the ODST stumbling forward. Regaining her footing, Tamara continued forward, keenly aware of the very big, very pointy dagger behind her.

"Move." Sandra added unnecessarily. Now that the final two Spartans had got what they came for, it was time to return and get some much-needed shut eye. Though this time, the three of them would be able to sleep peacefully in each other's arms. They had their daughter back: the rest they could figure out later.

 **Come Back Next Time!**

Yay, our lovely ladies' little trio is finally back together! Sorry this took me so long to get out. I was busy with other things and just didn't have the urge to write. But when I got it, I decided I was going to finish out chapter 10 for all of you. I know that you have been patient, and I thank you, here is a chapter as a reward for all the waiting you have shown! And that concludes the Infinity arc of this story! There will be a little more included in the next chapter, but it will be in setup for the third and final arc of RW2 (or RW:CL is the official acronym). Let me know what you guys and gals think. See you all next time. Peace!

Quick note: For those wondering about Sandra smashing through the door, just think about Spartan Charge (look it up if you don't know what that is).


	11. Day after Day

**The Rabbit and the Wolfe**

Sorry for the long wait! Hope you are all ready for chapter 11. It's mostly fluff, but it has enough fluffy goodness for everyone! So, dive in and don't forget to favorite, follow and review!

As always, a big shout out to my editor, **MightyMilkDuds**! You, sir, are awesome!

 **11: Day after Day**

 **December 4, 2561**

 **UNSC** _ **Infinity, S**_ **-deck, Spartan Quarters**

 **77 Polar System**

 **1830 hours**

Kelly let herself sink into the bed as much as the stiff material would let her. Apparently, the UNSC had numerous issues to deal with over the past few years, but comfortable sleeping arrangements for their soldiers was not a paramount concern. That didn't seem to bother her two companions in the slightest, who slept soundly in spite of their cramped accommodations. Amber was curled up between her parents, cooing softly into the recycled air that circulated throughout the ship. She had been hesitant to sleep at first, fearing her mother and mommy would disappear when she awoke, but Sandra had been quick to reassure the little Sangheili that they weren't going anywhere. Her lover's words seemed to be enough, as Amber had nuzzled her way into the small gap between the two Spartans and quickly fell into a deep, restful slumber.

Rolling onto her side, Kelly leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on her daughter's head, eliciting a soft giggle from the sleeping alien, before becoming silent once more. Absentmindedly, she ran a hand through Sandra's golden locks, relishing in the contact she had desperately yearned for so long. _How could anyone not want this? True, I am not the same Spartan I was three years ago. But I feel… whole. Complete. Loved. Something I never had._ She could feel the muscles in her face pulling her lips into a smile but didn't even bother trying to hide it. _I wouldn't want it any other way._ Leaning in, she captured her pup's lips in a gentle kiss. Even dead asleep, Sandra tried to follow her scout as she pulled back. Green eyes slowly revealed themselves to her as her other half came to.

"I thought I felt something." Sandra muttered, traces of sleep still coating her melodic voice.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Kelly replied innocently. Sandra merely rolled her eyes, giving the veteran a knowing smile. Sandra reached out and took Kelly's hand, interlacing their fingers.

"Beautiful, isn't she?" Sandra whispered, gently rubbing Amber's leathery head with her free hand. The older Spartan could feel her smile grow even brighter, ignoring the subtle ache in her jaw from her abused muscles. Looking down on the sleeping child, Kelly hummed in agreement. Amber was indeed beautiful and easily the best thing that had ever happened to the veteran.

"Just as beautiful as you." Kelly said quietly, mindful of the child sleeping between them. Strangely, there was no comeback. Her words just floated away, carried by the oxygen particles around them, never to be seen again. Sandra slowly leaned in, allowing her head to rest on Kelly's pillows. The older Spartan was content on just letting her pup fall back asleep on her chest. She didn't know how much time they were allotted, the Commander had only given them a _minimum_ number of hours to sleep, but she was determined that her two angels get all the sleep they could. That was before she felt wet droplets hit her shirt. At first Kelly though it may have been drool from her lover, or even blood from a reopened wound, but then she heard the sobs. Her lover's shift in mood was so sudden, so jarring, that Kelly was momentarily frozen, unsure of what to do. They were quiet, but insistent, like a child pleading with their parent for treats.

"We almost lost her." Sandra strangled out. All the pain, all the worry she had been carrying around inside of her ever since they left for Permefreis poured out like a waterfall, raw and unfiltered. Kelly wrapped her arms around her, drawing her as close as she could without squishing Amber between them. Each sob that wracked her body felt like a knife in Kelly's gut. She couldn't stand to see her lover cry, ever. She was no wizard with emotions, but she had to try _something_ , if only to make herself feel better.

"But we didn't." Kelly tried to reassure her. It seemed to have the opposite effect as she cried harder, tears streaming down her face.

"We _could have!_ And that's what scares me." She whimpered. Kelly continued to rub small circles on her pup's back, a pensive look on her face. Clearly, she would need another approach. Luckily, she had an idea. She had always been a direct person, facing any challenge head-on, as any Spartan would. This was no different. Gently, she separated herself from Sandra, keeping her at arm's reach, even as part of her screamed for her not to.

"Look down. What do you see?" Kelly asked. Blinking a few times to clear her vision, Sandra tilted her head to get a good look at what was below her. Though her eyes had adjusted to the darkness of their quarters, her augmentations only went so far. "I-I don't understand. Just Amber an-"

"Exactly." Kelly interrupted, not allowing the younger Spartan to finish. "She is here, with us. _Safe._ What couldhave happened is irrelevant, because it _didn't_. We saved her." She shook her head. While not wrong, it wasn't exactly right either. " _You_ saved her." Sandra lifted her head, and Kelly saw the unshed tears that seemed to sparkle in the woman's emerald green forests. Even in that moment, eyes tinged red from crying, her face wet from the salty tears she had shed, hair that lay haphazardly strewn about the pillow, and still coated in a thin layer and dried sweat from the days before, she was still the most beautiful person Kelly had ever had the pleasure of meeting. She was so caught up marveling the woman in front of her she almost missed the blonde's next words.

"Thank you." She whispered, leaning in close once more. The veteran's words had an astounding calming effect that Sandra was all too happy to indulge in. Kelly was a drug. And Sandra was woefully, hopelessly and irrefutably addicted to it. Even if there was a cure to her 'condition', Sandra would never take it. She spent the next few minutes basking in her bunny's embrace, soaking in it, like a plant would absorb all the sunlight it could on a warm, sunny day. Somehow, Kelly always found the right thing to say at the right time. It was an intriguing facet of the Spartan's personality that continued to amaze her, even to this day. Sandra let out a light chuckle at the thought, which faded into the recycled evening air. _To believe I had her all figured out…_

The minutes continued to tick by silently, save for the even breaths of a young Sangheili and the ever-present hum of the hybrid engines. The two women had forgotten how relaxing the monotonous drone of the _Infinity's_ drives could be. Like a sweet lullaby sung to children to coax them to sleep, the Spartans were quickly finding it harder and harder to keep their eyes open. Six hours was not enough for their abused bodies and brains; they demanded more time to rest and recharge before they would allow the women to function properly.

"Hey, Kelly?" Sandra asked sleepily, trying to stifle a yawn halfway through and failing quite horrendously (spectacularly?).

"Yes?" Came the muted response as the veteran tried to stave off the rapid onset of sleep long enough to answer her pup's question.

"I love you." For once, Kelly's response was not clear and precise. What came from the veteran's mouth was a verbal mire of sounds that landed somewhere between a groan and a sigh, nowhere near recognizable as any sort of proper speech. Scooting closer, Sandra draped an arm over her bunny's stomach, yearning for comfort. Her silent cry for contact was quickly alleviated as Kelly intertwined their fingers, leaving them to rest in their cocoon of warmth. The veteran's simple action brought a sleepy smile to her face. Kelly was starting to come into her own, not only as a mother, but as a partner as well. There was still much to do, both on and off the battlefield. But at the moment, Sandra was content.

 **Sol System, Earth**

 **Oceania, Eastern Australia**

 **1900 hours**

Megan tucked a loose strand of blue hair behind her ear as she shifted on the short couch, folding her legs underneath her. The setting sun caressed the horizon like a lover, painting the skies above in warm shades of orange and purple. _The sunsets are always so beautiful here…_ Megan mused, smiling at the gentle colors which bathed her skin with warmth. To think, what boiled down to be a big ball of Helium could propagate _life_. It boggled the mind. Flashing a smile to the sky, as if thanking the star for everything it's done, she picked up the tablet she had set aside a few minutes before. While not something she would typically read, one of her coworkers had recommended it and she quickly became engrossed in its pixelated pages. Her past relationships had left a sour taste in her mouth when it came to reading romance. The teacher tended to find most novels filled with redundancies, bland characters with artificial personalities, and more clichés than she could handle. But this one was drastically different, as shown by the woman's testament of being unable to put it down.

"Babe? Babe, where are you?" Her boyfriend called from inside her apartment. With a sigh, she put the book back on the armrest. _Honestly, it would be nice if I could get at least SOME time for myself once in a while._ Guess the book would have to wait a little while more.

"Out here!" She fired back. Ordinarily, she would have met him at the door, but she was enjoying the evening weather and didn't want to move. The soft _whoosh_ of the door broke her gaze with the fading light of the day.

"There you are." He said, coming up behind her and laying a gentle kiss atop her head. Not satisfied enough, Megan craned her head around and was rewarded with another one on the lips. They broke apart a few moments later, their customary greeting complete. They first met at an international teaching conference almost two years ago and quickly hit it off. He was stunningly handsome, with his dark chocolate complexion, chiseled jaw and gentle eyes that drew her to him, like iron to a magnet. But it was more than just his outward appearance that left her weak at the knees. He was intelligent, charismatic and caring, sometimes to a fault. When they went out, she happily soaked up all the jealous looks people sent her way. She finally had something she had been wanting ever since she was a little girl and would not let others squander her joy. But as excited as she was to begin each new day in this relationship, she was also cautious, not wanting to rush into things only to ruin them. She was determined to make this work, no matter how long it took. She would _not_ mess this one up.

"So, I've been replaced by a book, have I?" He offered teasingly. Her cheeks warmed at the mention of being caught, and quickly pulled the tablet into her lap before he could get his hands on it.

"N-no! Not at all!" She weakly defended herself, hoping he wouldn't catch her brief stammer. No such luck. His hazel eyes pulsed inquisitively as he leaned over her chair to get a better look.

"Romance, huh? I thought you didn't like that stuff. Too sappy and fake, if I remember correctly." She nodded in response, her lips breaking out in a small, guilty smile.

"Yeah, but I like this one. It's different."

"Oh?" He said, slipping in beside her. "Different how?"

"Well, to start, I actually enjoy this one. The characters are believable and the plot isn't half bad." She said, picking up her book intending to get back to reading. Even with the minor interruption, she wanted to finish it. She caught his understanding nod out of the corner of her eye. As a literature teacher himself, he knew how the good ones can drag you into another world altogether. Taking the opportunity, Megan snuggled up next to her boyfriend, bathing in his natural warmth. Now comfortable and warm, despite the evening chill, she began her book once more. As her brain comprehended each word on the tablet, she felt herself drifting off. Not to sleep or another world, but to her most enigmatic and quiet friend.

 _I hope you're safe, Linda. We haven't talked for so long. And I'm worried about you. Our last conversation did not end on the best of terms, and for that I'm sorry. I was pushing you to a place you weren't comfortable with, and that was wrong of me. Ha! Look at me. Having a conversation with myself, talking to you like your right here._ She chuckled at the thought.

"What are you laughing at?" He asked from behind her.

"Nothing. Just a funny part in the book." He gave a noncommittal hum before closing his eyes to rest. He must have been tired, packing for the trip they had planned. They had both taken off work to get some well-earned vacation time. Almost two whole weeks of spas, relaxation and the most importantly, shopping! Now, Megan loved her students, often joking to the other teachers that they were her babies, but everyone needed a break once in a while. Why pass up such an amazing opportunity? It was at that moment that a wave of guilt hit her like a small boat tossed about in rough seas. She had told Linda about her boyfriend but had neglected to return the favor. It wasn't that she was ashamed of her friendship with the Spartan, but she wasn't sure how he would react. It was this unknown that held her tongue.

 _But why should I let the fear of the unknown control my life? There will always be things I do not know and things I will be afraid of. Why should that stop me? After all, if I didn't go up and talk to him, I wouldn't be sitting in his all too comfy lap enjoying my book, would I?_

Placing the data pad on the patio floor, she shifted in his arms, wanting to look into his hazel eyes. "Hey, Kevin, baby, I haven't been completely honest with you." She said remorsefully. He cracked open an eye, curious hazel looking into anxious blue. Folding an arm around her waist like a chocolate blanket, he ran a hand soothingly through her oceanic hair.

"Babe, whatever it is you can tell me." He offered honestly, flashing her a brilliant smile that made her insides summersault. Swallowing thickly, she nodded, doing her best not to drown in her nervousness.

"Well…I have this friend. Her name is Linda, and, well, I kind of told her about you. Sorry for not asking you first." His bark of laughter caught her by surprise.

"Was that it? Megan you don't need my permission to tell people about us. I'm not trying to keep it a secret or anything." He reassured, rubbing small circles on the small of her back. He continued his relaxing ministrations as her lips slowly released the pout they had been greedily holding on to. He craned his neck up and captured her lips in a kiss. It was slow and sensual, their mouths coming together in a tender display of affection. They gently separated as their need for air overtook the need for connection. "Feel better?" He asked affectionately.

"I always feel better after your kisses." She answered, flashing him a small, sincere smile. "Speaking of feeling better, are you all packed for our trip?"

"Brought all my stuff over. That's why it took me so long. Are you excited?"

"I can't wait. I love my kids but being able to enjoy two unobstructed weeks with you…marvelous."

He chuckled, something Megan found exquisitely charming. "Always the wordsmith." He paused for a moment to collect his thoughts. "So, can I meet your friend?" Megan was thrown off by the sudden change in topic, but quickly recovered.

"Uh... I don't know, baby. She isn't really the talkative sort. And frankly, she's pretty intimidating." There was more to it than that, but Megan didn't want to divulge that information just yet.

 _Like the fact you practically shoehorned the woman into a date the first time you met her?_

 _No!_ Another part of her mind shot back defensively. _It was just a friendly offer!_

 _Yet you felt the need to go all out in the wardrobe department?_

 _That was…ok, I guess I may have meant it as a date. But it didn't happen, so no harm done!_ The more rebellious part of her mind quieted at that. She didn't really want to revisit the events that happened that night, more content to leave them buried, concealed within the deepest recesses of her mind. Like a virulent toxin or a rabid creature, Megan sought to keep them contained, where those nightmares could harm her no longer. Coming back to reality, she could see Kevin looking at her expectantly.

 _Crap._

"I, uh, um…tacos?" Kevin burst out laughing, almost throwing her off the furniture they were curled up on. She squealed as she slipped off his chest, but a quick arm prevented her from hitting the concrete floor. That would have not been pleasant, not to mention mortifying. Her skin grew warm just thinking about it.

"Not what I was asking, but that's a good idea for dinner." He said with a smile, leaning in to capture her sweet lips in a gentle kiss once more. Quickly scooting back to her previous position, Megan let her lips do the talking as she peppered him with kisses. The minutes seemed to melt away as they became familiar with one another once more. Tongues danced together as the air around them seemed to radiate passion like a mistress seducing her lover on a cold winter night. His hands may have lacked the roughness and calluses of her past relationships, but that did not stop him from gliding them down her sides. She could feel her skin heat up the more his hands moved across her body, as if she rubbed up against little flickers of flame. Her emotions began to sizzle, desperate to boil, to become more. Her breaths came in hitched, short intakes of air, that left her but momentary respite before she dove back headfirst back into the churning waters of desire.

But as much as she yearned to return to those pellucid waters, their dark depths offering an infinite amount of intimate, perhaps even lustful possibilities, something held her back. An unseen force, as invisible as the air around them, but as strong as a black hole's event horizon. Never seen, but always present. With a mixed sense of both relief and sadness, she was lifted from the sea. By what, she could not say, only that it was insistent that its task be done. Biting her cheek, she reached down with one hand and gently lifted a chocolate appendage that had rested itself upon her rounded cheeks.

"Sorry. But I-" She began, looking into his confused hazel eyes. They were so warm and inviting, but _something_ told her to hold off. At least for the time being. "I don't think I'm ready for that just yet." Megan could see the disappointment swirling in his hazel orbs, but she was still afraid, not of the unknown, but of the known. Terror and vulnerability were emotions she had experienced firsthand, feelings she never wanted to become acquainted with ever again. Who knows? She may never get over her fears, her faults, her _vulnerabilities_. Kevin quickly cut in, reassuring her and dragging her from the dark thoughts that descended upon her like a pack of feral beasts.

"Hey, hey, you have nothing to be ashamed of. If you aren't ready for that, fine. You aren't. That doesn't make you any less of a woman. In fact, it just makes your beauty shine all the brighter." Megan managed to flash him a weak, albeit warm smile. The oranges and pinks of the setting sun had receded to sleep, leaving only the blues and purples to watch over the night sky. With it came the cooler night air, sending a shiver through the aquamarine haired woman, in spite of the warm, luxurious accommodations she found herself on. With another kiss and a reassuring smile, Kevin prompted her to get up and retreat inside, where they could cuddle up somewhere warmer, preferably with tortilla-wrapped bundles of cuisine. It had been a long day, filled with screaming children and an affectionate boyfriend, but Megan was looking forward to a trip loaded with shopping, dancing and a beautiful, tropical climate to top it all off. Little did she know it would be anything but.

 **UNSC** _ **Infinity, S-**_ **deck, CQC training room**

 **2200 hours**

Sandra blinked wearily at the angry fluorescent lighting that unyieldingly beat down upon her, trying to keep the worst of it at bay. _Have the lights always been this bright?!_ She mused unkindly. Kelly was right: six hours was not _nearly_ enough time to catch up on lost sleep, even more so with the addition of a clingy Sangheili child. Nonetheless, here she was, alone in one of the CQC training rooms, only a scant eight hours after securing the ship. Throwing a hostile glare towards a set of innocent training gear in the corner, she set about stretching the sore joints, knowing she was going to regret it later.

Kelly had taken Amber out before she woke, leaving a note as so to not worry the blonde. Sandra had found it laying on the pillow beside her, the short, simple message bringing a smile to her face. The ex-ODST no longer felt uncomfortable training alone, but old habits die hard. Kelly had accidently come across this little tidbit of information one morning, after scaring her then, teammate, half to death. Needless to say, her scout was not her friend that day as she nursed a bloody nose. From then on, Kelly gave her space to practice her morning routine, joining in on occasion. But there were perks to working out alone. No interruptions, for one. No other voices, no inquisitive children, and most importantly, no _curvaceous assets_ to distract her from her routine. Ever try to do push-ups while staring at your girlfriend's ass? No? Let's just say they get _a lot_ more challenging. If Linda caught her staring, Sandra would never live it down. But while the sniper would hold it over her head for the foreseeable future, Kelly wouldn't hesitate to stab even Frederic if he so much as opened his mouth, brother or not. _Poor bastard._

Feeling the last vertebrae pop under her skinsuit like cheap fireworks, Sandra sat down on the titanium floor, her armored plates scraping gently against each other. Pulling her swords from their magnetic cradles as if they were made of glass, she gingerly placed them on the floor in front of her. While not part of her normal routine, it had been some time since she had last meditated. Almost three years, in fact. She had just begun her work for ONI on Escala III and needed some guidance. Needed to remember who she was. She closed her eyes and focused on her breathing. Deep, full breaths. Breathe in. breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. As her lungs continued to circulate air, the rest of the world fell away. Light was replaced by darkness. Noise fell away to silence. Serenity surrounded her like a soft breeze across a meadow that sparkled with daffodils. Sandra could taste the food on her plate. She could hearthe birds chirp and chatter after a rainstorm. She could _taste_ the ozone in the air as blade clashed against blade, all the while she watched, awestruck, as the guards trained against each other.

But memories were a double-edged sword. For every pleasurable one, there was one of pain. For every smile, a frown was sure to follow. It was difficult to swallow the sweet without choking on the bitter. As her ancestors had done for loves that had passed on to the next world, tears welled up within her own emeralds, afraid to leave their cradle, but eager to share their woe. Her calm, even breaths had turned shallow and ragged, as if the life was being strangled from her. Her lungs felt constricted, like a Hunter had sought fit to sit on it as some sort of cruel punch line to a terrible joke. A dull _thud_ of something metal hitting the floor ripped her from her trance. Blinking away the few stubborn tears the refused to fade, she turned towards the noise, a scowl chiseled on her immaculate beauty. Dr. Halsey stood in the corner, her face unreadable, staring at her, studying her.

"You seem to have difficulty maintaining a deep level of concentration." She stated, almost artificially. Almost like she was talking to a machine, not a living being. To be honest, it creeped Sandra out. "Though it isn't particularly surprising, considering your lineage."

"Excuse me? Just what is _that_ supposed to mean?!" Sandra retorted hotly. Truthfully, she had been more than a little caught off guard at the interruption, but this woman seemed to take an immediate dislike to her for some reason. She may have become a _bit_ defensive.

"Exactly what you believe it to mean, Spartan." Her face remained frozen, not even a flicker of emotion showing between the wrinkles. Evidently, the woman was mocking her, but Sandra was having none of it. Muttering unkind words under her breath, Sandra stood to her full height, storing her hilts back within their magnetic cradles. Her boots rang loudly off the metal floor as she marched across the room.

"You seem to have a problem with me, ma'am. I would like to know why." Sandra spoke as politely as she could. Despite being over a foot taller than the other woman, Halsey did not look intimidated in the slightest. The lack of response from the older woman did not settle well with the blonde, as her lips curled in anger, showing her teeth.

"You are in a place you don't belong, Spartan. A place I seek to remove you from as quickly as possible, to undo any damage you have inadvertently caused. Because it is clear to me that you do not take your duty seriously." Her words were like cold steel, sharp to the point and delivered with brutal effectiveness. _Who the hell does this woman thinks she is!?_

"And _where_ exactly do you think I don't belong?" Sandra responded icily, folding her arms across her chest plate and glowering down at the SPARTAN-II program's creator.

"With _my_ Spartans." Halsey responded in equal measure, not bothering to shroud her contempt for the blonde Spartan.

"Your Spartans? I'm afraid I don't follow." Sandra pretended not to hear the snort of exasperation that left the doctor's nostrils. This conversation was going nowhere fast and this woman was really starting to get under her skin.

"Yes, Blue Team are _my_ Spartans, and you are a liability to _all_ of them." Halsey retorted, as if it was a statement of fact.

"I'm an asset to Chief, Kelly and the others. A damn good one! You know nothing about me."

"You have _no_ right to use their names!" Halsey hissed, ice swirling behind her blue eyes, like the precipice of a jagged, deadly glacier.

"I have every right! Where were you when they were trapped in a Covenant cruiser?! When their backs were against the wall with no way out? When their world turned inside out, I was one of the few whom they could still trust. I have been there for them. You. _Haven't_." Truthfully, she knew the doctor _had_ no response, for she was not a soldier. The selling point was just to give her a few moments of respite.

Sandra's green eyes burned brightly, to combat the freezing temperatures of the creator's icy comments with a raging emerald blaze. The two women were entrenched in their beliefs and would not give any ground. For if either gave an inch, their enemy would take a mile. Halsey opened her mouth to continue their argument when the door opened with a soft _whoosh_. Frederic stood in the doorway, his visor shifting awkwardly between the two women.

"Are we interrupting?"

"Yes." "No." They replied in unison.

"This conversation isn't over." Halsey declared forewarningly.

"No. It isn't." Sandra practically growled, glaring at the woman as she made her way out of the room, giving her regards to the Fred and Linda as she left. She closed the door without looking back, leaving the three soldiers to their own devices. She had more important things to do than arguing like a child.

"You have a very…distinct voice." Linda said distractedly, her helmet obscuring any subtle cracks in her stoic exterior. That brought a small chuckle out of the youngest of the group.

"Well, some people just bring out the best in me." Sandra said, sauntering towards the arena in the middle of the room. "What an insufferable ass! How anyone can stand that woman is beyond me." She added to no one in particular. Behind her, Fred and Linda shared a knowing look. The circular arena sat in a well-lit section on the far end of the room. Built using pneumatic risers and props, the same technology implemented in War Games simulations, the arena could be modified to duplicate most environment. Though these arenas were specifically designed for close quarters combat using live combatants. As such, they lacked simulated sensory input, preferring the 'old fashioned way' of honing one's skills.

"Care to go a few rounds?" Fred called across the room, nodding towards the raised platform.

"Ha! With your skill, you'd knock me on my ass in less than a minute!" Fred couldn't help but smile. He _was_ Blue Team's CQC specialist after all. "I have a better idea!" She added, entering a code into a storage locker. "Catch!" Fred caught the object as it flew through the air, and he swore his heart skipped a beat. His smile disappeared faster than a kid who dropped his ice cream on the hot pavement during the summer. _Shit_.

Linda saw the whole thing from the sidelines: the swell of pride, the slump of his shoulders and, finally, the weapon in his hand. There were only a few times she had seen him go through such a fluctuation of emotion so quickly. Unable to contain herself, she burst out laughing. It wasn't loud, nor was it particularly boisterous, but it was there. The sniper had not laughed, actually _laughed_ , in a long while.

"I wouldn't laugh, Linda, because you're his second." Sandra said teasingly, tossing the sniper her own hilt with a childishly gleeful grin etched upon her face. Linda's laughter died instantly. _I take it all back. This woman needs to go._ While the Spartan-II's entered the arena, with some notable reluctance, Sandra scooped her waiting helmet off a nearby table, sliding it easily over her head. "All right, let me see what you've got." Sandra challenged, pulling her hilts free and igniting the blades in one fluid motion. The red glow given off by the twin custom swords was quickly matched by a stormy blue as the Spartan veterans lit their own weapons. The dance had begun once more.

* * *

Kelly and John languidly marched down a familiar corridor, each lost within their own world. They had just been relieved and were on their way to the mess hall to grab some much-needed nourishment. Half a ton of armor and they barely made more noise than slippers sliding across a carpeted floor, a testament to their unmatched experience inside the armored exoskeletons. The bodies were gone, but the sanguine scars remained, like the shattered debris left behind after a hurricane. When the _Infinity_ returned to Earth, when the stains were removed and the holes mended, the memories would remain. Like seeds that sprouted a thorny brier, they would fester within the confines of the subconscious, trapping them within their own nightmares to drain them of their life. Many would survive, but some would be consumed by the horrors of the past, never to rise again.

"Come on, we don't want to miss this!" A Spartan said to his companion as he ran past the veterans, pulling them back to reality.

"It's just a sword fight. What's so amazing about that?" His companion shouted back. As the eager Spartan and his companion rounded the corner, Chief slightly dipped his head in her direction, the slight gesture needing no translation: _I wonder who that could be? Care to hazard a guess, Kelly?_ Rolling her eyes behind her opaque visor, she picked up her pace as they made their way to where her lover had obviously garnered a crowd.

Whatever the two super soldiers were expecting when the entered the small arena, it certainly wasn't _this._ It was a madhouse. There were at least four dozen servicemen and women gathered before the small arena, all cheering loudly, as if there was some unwritten pact to make as much noise as possible. The scout was also able to pick a few soldiers discreetly making bets with those around them. Unorganized events such as these were against regulations, and generally frowned upon by the higher echelons of command. Unsure of how to proceed, she looked to her friend and leader. To her surprise, he had slipped away, nestling into the corner of the room. With a mental shrug, she followed his lead, posting herself by the door, eager to see her love thrive in her natural element.

Though her pride clung on to the small hope that her brother and sister would emerge the victor, the more practical side of her knew the two of them didn't have a snowball's chance in hell. Fred and Linda weren't just losing, oh no. They were being _manhandled._ They may be proficient with almost every weapon they touched, but they couldn't hold a candle to her pup when it came to energy swords. A combined few months of Covenant weapon familiarization training was laughably pathetic when compared to almost a full decade of dedication to the sword arts, including years of personal training by some of the best sword masters in the known galaxy. Now the only matter left to settle was when would Sandra stop showing off and end this bout. Fate must have owed her big time, because it didn't last long after that. With a flourish of dazzlingly masterful movements that would turn any Sangheili green with envy, Sandra quickly disarmed the two Spartans. Cheers and curses momentarily drowned out the hybrid engines, replacing the steady hum with unsynchronized rumble.

The crowd dispersed quickly, excitedly talking amongst themselves. In just a few short minutes the room had gone from over fifty occupants to just five, reminding those who remained just how silent the ship could be.

"An impressive performance, Sandra." Chief spoke from his corner, breaking the silence. Perhaps the quiet was still too raw, even for Spartans.

"Maybe you would like to get _your_ ass kicked next time, Chief." Fred responded jokingly, a smile clearly evident in his voice.

"You looked like you were handling yourself just fine." Chief fired back with his own friendly jab, bringing a smile his team.

"Speak for yourself." The sniper crossed her arms across her chest, clearly unhappy with her loss. Fred bumped her, to which Linda replied with a vulgar gesture. When Sandra laughed at their little exchange, Linda opted to remain silent, instead electing to burn the younger Spartan to ash with an intense glare. Eventually, the members of Blue Team drifted out one by one, either by hunger or the need to put some distance between themselves and an infuriating blonde, leaving Kelly and her pup alone to their own devices.

"Seems were all alone." Sandra said coyly, looking aimlessly about the empty room. Kelly's face blossomed with embarrassment as her mind immediately went to the raciest solutions to their current predicament. But she couldn't let her lover know or the woman would become nigh impossible to reign in. Besides, she wasn't as green as she once was. She could handle herself when Sandra became…imaginative.

"Seems so." Kelly replied succinctly, making sure to control the quiver in her voice. _There. Not so hard_. Her confident smile eroded with every step the shorter woman made. Her sapphire orbs were glued to the woman's hips as they swayed hypnotically, closer and closer. Like a moth drawn to a flame, Kelly refused to look away, unconsciously moistening her lips with her tongue. _Are my suit's temperature controls sill working properly? I feel like I'm burning up._ Sandra sauntered into her scout's personal space, practically plastering herself against the veteran. If anyone were to come through that door, they would be met with a holistically unprofessional image that would be burned into their brain for the next century.

"Perhaps I could tutor you." Sandra offered, savoring the fact that Kelly was trapped between her and the wall. "A little 'personal' training. How does that sound, hmm?"

"I do-" A hand running up her thigh choked out the rest of her sentence, bringing her mind to a screeching halt. Sandra was enjoying this, the little minx! Growling at her pup's little teases, Kelly sought to stabilize her overly reactive libido. She was a Spartan, not a hormonal school girl, damn it!

"Afterwards, if you sufficiently performed to my expectations, we can take a nice relaxing shower. Together. How does that sound?"

Kelly dropped the opacity of her visor giving the woman a pointed look with her sapphire orbs. "I hate you."

True to her nature, Sandra took it in stride. "Good girl." She purred, giving the older Spartan's buttocks a firm squeeze, eliciting a startled hiccup for her efforts. Peeling herself away from her white armored companion, Sandra hit the door release and disappeared with a soft _whoosh_ , leaving the poor soldier to fend for herself.

 **United Rebel Front Stronghold**

 **Unknown System**

 **2330 hours**

Wilhelm Sundance took a deep pull from his cigar, the pungent smoke rolling through his lungs like the heavy fog of the 18th century London. The orange tip glowed intermittently, pulsing in time with the beat of his heart as he looked over the plans strewn across the table. Around him were the other members of his 'inner circle', a term he had become fond of, all deep in thought. With the _Infinity_ crippled-but not beaten, he had to remind himself-their plans had to be modified in case the flagship decided to make an appearance. Extra precautions had to be made. Money flowed from their pockets like water, as bribing officials, security guards and other key members did not come cheap. But their plan _would_ work. He would bet his life on it.

"Your report is thorough," He complimented, flicking his eyes to his good friend. Alexander gave him a short nod but kept silent. _A shame we could not get that Spartan to join our cause. But a deal is a deal._ While he could not agree with the soldier's allegiances, even though he was no longer a part of the UNSC, he still hoped the information could help the man find his family. Tapping the excess ash into a nearby dish, he continued, this time addressing the entire gathering. "All of our effort, our funds, time, money and suffering has gone into this single operation. We cannot afford to fail. Millions are counting on us. To free them from oppression. From tyranny. But we cannot let our desperation or our hate win out over caution. Everyone here has put in too much to see it fail now."

"Here! Here!" One shouted.

"I completely agree!" Another one broke in.

"You're damn right we have!" A woman shouted, adding her own feelings to the mix. Wilhelm held up a hand for silence and the praise and murmurs fell away.

"I know you all know this plan like you would your own children, but I want to cover it all again. To make sure there are absolutely no mistakes." He took a few seconds to shoot each member a look so sharp it could cut stone. There would be _no_ errors in this plan. It was flawless from start to finish on paper. And Sundance would see that it remained so in its execution. Satisfied, he continued with his explanation. "The UNSC's flagship, the _Infinity_ has been crippled, both physically and morally. They survive, but must head back to Earth for repairs, as it is the only planet with the facilities big enough to refit such a ship. Whether they retreat for repairs is irrelevant. We must be ready for _anything_. Admiral, how ready is your fleet to depart?"

An elderly, if portly, gentleman with a bushy, silver beard cleared his throat. He used to be an Admiral (or so he said) on one of the Outer colonies, before it was glassed by the Covenant. He had joined Wilhelm and his growing resistance when the UNSC would not return to purge the alien scourge from his home planet. He was in control of their fleet of warships, and if Wilhelm were to be honest, an excellent commander. "The men are loading the last of the weapons and provisions as we speak. The cloaking fields and stealth systems have gone through their shakedown runs and are operating green across the board. We are ready to go when you are." Sundance gave the man a small nod.

"Good. Now, Alexander, you formulated the most efficient plan to secure our foothold on the planet. Care to enlighten your fellow commanders?" Reilcat grunted, running a hand through his greying hair. The Major looked worn down, like the horrors he had witnessed during the war slowly dragged him to his grave. Though he slept for over twelve hours, dark circles still lingered under his eyes and the emerald cores had dimmed over the past months. But he was still a soldier, ready to take the fight to the enemy. The UNSC still needed to pay for their crimes.

"This portion requires the completion of two critical objectives. First, their interplanetary and extraplanetary communication network must be brought down. This will prevent our enemy from calling reinforcements and keep the rest of the planet in the dark as to what is happening. But that won't stop a passing patrol from decimating our forces. We need their focus to be elsewhere. That is why we have stashed multiple SHIVA warheads in key locations. The detonations will easily pull their attention away from any small-scale conflict. This will allow us the time we need to establish a foothold on the planet."

"Won't the civilian casualties be…high?" A captain questioned from across the table, unease painted across his pudgy face.

"That's the point. They knew what they signed up for." Reilcat snapped, glaring menacingly at the poor man. The man opened his mouth to argue, thought better of it, and kept silent.

"While our methods may be seen as 'inhumane' or 'brutal' by some, it is, regrettably, the only way now. Our people have tried more peaceful means to obtain our goals. All were met with failure or force. Armed resistance is the only way forward, because violence is the only thing the UNSC understands. I wish there was another way. Truly, I do." Wilhelm broke in sadly.

"Remind me again, Wil. Where are we going?" A raven-haired woman in her early thirties spoke, butting in to the impromptu moment of silence.

Releasing a frustrated huff from behind his cigar, he gave the woman a depreciating look. An ex-ONI operative, his cousin had the most experience when it came to covert operations, even if the woman infuriated him on occasion. Like now, for instance.

"Melody, how did you get through ONI training asking questions like that?" His sneer did nothing to dissuade the hateful glare that was sent his way as she ground her teeth in silence. _If looks could kill…_ "Epsilon Eridani III, otherwise known as Tribute. The Inner Colony world used to be an industrial hub and economic anchor for humanity before the Covenant attacked in 2552. Over the years, they have rebuilt, slowly returning to the pinnacle of trade in the post-war era. Casbah, their capital city is now home to a sprawling mall and a garden of monuments. Named Humanity Mall, it is dedicated as a testament to Humanity's ability to endure. Considered a prestigious vacation destination by many, but more to the point, it remains a stronghold for UNSC morale. In short, it is the perfect target." He gave a winning smile as he closed his pitch. Many of those around him returned the gesture, happy to be a part of such an undertaking. Only Reilcat and Melody remained unmoved. The former rarely showed any emotion close to joy and the latter was still pissed. Oh well. He could live with that.

"I didn't need the history lesson." She growled out between clenched teeth. Her eyes narrowed even further, if that was even possible. "Just give us the damn time table."

Sundance frowned, his charming personality slipping momentarily before snapping back, like a rubber band. "Assuming preparations are completed within the next day or so, we leave for Tribute within the week." If everything went according to plan, their small fleet would enter slipspace within the next two days. From there, their trip to the inner colony was just over a week away. "Any questions?" There were none, a sentiment secured the shaking of a few heads. They were ready. Their troops were ready. Best of all? The United Nations Space Command had no idea they were coming. While the attacks on Imber and the UNSC _Infinity_ had been met with varying amounts of success, Wilhelm was confident their actions on Tribute would have a monumental impact. It would be the spark to reignite the Insurrection and free their people from an oppressive, tyrannical government. It was time to get to work.

 **Come Back Next Time!**

Hoped you all liked it! I know it wasn't as action-y as the few previous ones, but after the next chapter, we are once more dropping into the action! Till we meet again, Halo fans!


	12. Lies and Betrayal

**The Rabbit and the Wolfe**

Hello again, Halo fans! Glad you could join me for another chapter. Things are heating up for the last arc of RW: CL. The rebels are planning their attack on Tribute and won't let anything or anyone stand in their way. Meanwhile, the _Infinity_ is still recovering from a massive attack, set to make an emergency jump to Earth for repairs. I wonder if things will turn out that way…Alright, that's enough blabbing from me. On to the action!

 **12: Lies and Betrayal**

 **December 5, 2561**

 **Unknown Location**

 **Unknown Time**

The Domain. Created by the Precursors hundreds of millions of years ago, this quantum information repository stored untold amounts of knowledge that stretched back millennia. But this knowledge was not static. It shifted, changed, like a memory or river. From one instant to the next, it was never constant. It was a place where the rules of time and space did not apply. At least those traditionally held by sentient beings. Few knew of its existence and even fewer knew how to access it, let alone understand it. The Forerunners were one such species. They routinely used it to store, share and access information in their daily lives. It formed the basis of many of their religious beliefs and was commonplace in their culture.

The care and study of such a prestigious aspect of Forerunner civilization fell to the Haruspis, individuals of elevated status entrusted with watching over and protecting the Domain. As Forerunner civilization thrived and prospered, they used their talents to help others access the repository for answers to a seemingly infinite number of quandaries. But alas, as the years passed, the Domain slowly fell into legend as the Flood parasite spread across the known galaxy like a plague. In the end, the Forerunners fired the Halo arrays, wiping out all sentient life, starving the Flood of their food source. The galaxy was silent as a tomb, completely devoid of life. But the advanced civilization had prepared for this. After the parasite receded back into whatever nightmarish hole it had emerged from, constructs designed by the Forerunners began their work to bring life back to the galaxy. Slowly, almost painstakingly so, life emerged once more, flourishing in a swarm of technological and societal advances or to crumble and perish in the ravenous maw of greed and conflict. And though the Forerunners were long gone, the remnants they left behind helped inspire and shape civilizations for millennia.

The Warden felt another presence in the vast digital cosmos of the void. This was not the first time he had encountered it, nor was it the only time he had indulged it in conversation. But it felt…different this time, more insistent. The Forerunner construct was wary of this new development but brushed these concerns aside. They were of little importance. Conversation, idle or not, came few and far between for the Warden. The Domain was not as populated as it once was. With so few other voices, the Warden Eternal had grown…lonely. He understood that this was an emotion experienced by sentient beings but dismissed it immediately. There would be time to ponder that particular existential quandary at a later time. With a simple command, his subroutines allowed the other presence to enter.

 _Can you not see it, construct? How our technological advancements are being squandered by these lesser races?! They are children, too infantile to understand what they possess!_

 _They are learning, just as your own race did long ago. You must give them time._ The Warden calmly responded. _All beings crave knowledge, regardless of the purpose of its use. You cannot fault a species for partaking in a fundamental process of development._ He continued, chiding the other presence for his faulty tirade.

The other being, a Forerunner Promethean, let out a noise that the Warden could only interpret as a growl. _I have no quarrel with your logic, construct. My conflict lies with the Humans, not you. They are not fit to hold the Mantle! They were a scourge at the height of our empire, bringing the parasite with them wherever they wandered. Now, now they are a disease, defiling our technology and eroding what we have built over millennia! They are abhorrent. My love was wrong to save them. Eradication is the only sufficient conclusion._

The Warden could feel the anger and hatred emanating from the Didact. Like a lava flow, it was all-consuming, burning everything in its path. To the Forerunner commander, there was only one fate for Humanity: destruction. The construct could feel the Didact's presence pulse with power. Something was most certainly off. Instructing subroutines to examine the unsettling feeling that he had, the Warden sought to buy some time.

 _Perhaps your past with Humanity has tainted your judgement? I have observed flaws, inconsistencies, traits which match what you have described them to be in our previous conversations. But I have been watching, much longer than you, Didact. And not just the Humans. Out of all the sentient species the Forerunners seeded eons ago, Humanity is by far the most benevolent, not to mention beneficial, holder of the Mantle. And if memory serves, the Librarian believed the same, planting seeds to accelerate their evolution._

 _Then she was a fool!_ The Didact roared. _She was wrong to entrust such a monumental task to a species so young and irresponsible. They consume themselves with war. They sow seeds of greed and mistrust to obtain paltry amounts of power. Humanity lacks the ability to govern itself, let along all other life in the galaxy. Clearly, your time spent in isolation has diminished your capacity to see the faults in other beings._ The Warden could feel a surge of power come from the dark regions of the Domain, the likes of which he had witnessed during the height of the Forerunner empire. In his haste to engage in conversation, the Warden had overridden certain security protocols he felt were cumbersome and unneeded. He could have used those programs right about now. The surge of energy hit him like a runaway train, eating away at his code. There was nothing he could do now. It was only a matter of time.

 _Warden, your favoritism towards the Humans cannot be ignored, construct. They are just like the flood: a plague to be eliminated. And it is clear that you lack the conviction to do what needs to be done. I have no use for dull instruments. Your body will suffice. It is unfortunate that you must be erased in order to unlock what I need. I shall truly miss our conversations, Warden. Farewell._

With each segment of code that the Didact erased from existence, his form became more corporeal. The hum of the plates as they orbited his body rang through the repository like it was the only sound in existence. The soft _chink_ of metal as they locked into place with as much of a sense of finality as his imminent demise. In a matter of minutes, the Forerunner commander would leave the digital realm, free to bring untold destruction upon all of Humanity. The Warden had failed to follow his directives, the Librarian, and worst of all, Humanity.

 _You underestimate them, Didact. And that will be your undoing._ The Didact, now encased in one of the Warden's copies, scoffed at the construct's persistence.

 _No. it is you who underestimated me. Farewell, Warden._ And with a flick of his hand, he erased the last of the guardian of the Domain, leaving it as empty as it was when the Halo arrays were fired. But this time was different. This time he would succeed, whatever the cost.

 **December 8, 2561**

 **Humanity Mall,** **Tribute**

 **Epsilon Eridani System**

 **1020 hours**

Gentle tropical winds swept across the vast forest of palm trees and other colorful fauna, draping the expanse of metal and stone in a myriad of natural colors that drew people, and their credits, from all corners of the galaxy. Shoppers bustled to and fro, their arms laden with treasures while their accounts looked on in abject horror. Young or old, rich or poor, Humanity Mall had something for everyone. Whether you owned your own fleet of ships of lived in the belly of one, there was one more place to explore, one more activity to enjoy. The people were friendly and welcoming, one could almost forget that a war for their very survival was less than a decade ago. Spires of all sizes and styles made up the skyline of the old capital, monuments to humanity's ability to recover and rebuild.

Woven through it all, much like DNA is packaged into every cell, statues and memorials told their stories of how Humanity triumphed in the face of almost impossible odds. It served to remind all who came that their victory was built on the sacrifice of millions. To look past inane, petty differences and unite under the common banner of humanity. And at the center of it all, towering over all other memorial sites, the Master Chief stood resolute, ready to fight any foe, his visor catching the glow of every new horizon.

 _You have given so much to ensure we continue to enjoy the luxury of life. But who are you under that helmet? What scars do you hide?_ A cool arm wrapped around her waist, bringing the teacher into a comfortable embrace. The smooth voice beside her pulled her from her thoughts.

"What are you thinking about?" Kevin questioned.

"Spartans." Megan responded vaguely, still staring up at the statue from under her wide-brimmed hat. The stone seemed to glint like gems in the sunlight, its polished surface reflecting the untarnished record of every Spartan. Kevin didn't push, even though he had every right to, and Megan was grateful for that. In truth, it was not the Master Chief she imagined under all that armor: it was Linda. Ever since the sniper had accidentally revealed her super soldier roots, the teacher had done her best to learn all she could about her warrior friend. She scoured forums, blogs, footage and even official propaganda released by the UNSC. But it wasn't much. Almost everything she came across was classified or otherwise inaccessible. Most of her 'research' consisted of wild speculation, rumor, or firsthand accounts that consisted of so much black ink, they were practically worthless. Over the past few weeks it had become somewhat of an obsession for her, draining her time faster than an overcharged plasma pistol would drain shields. But at least she had a starting point, something to work with.

This had all stemmed from the fact that their last conversation had ended on a sour note and she wanted to make it up to the sniper. Megan had sent multiple messages, but so far had received no reply. Guilt and concern rippled within, shaking the teacher from the inside out.

"Come on." Megan said hastily, not willing to look at stone incarnation of Linda any longer. She dragged her boyfriend away by the hand, not waiting for a response.

"Are you ok, baby?"

"Fine. Why wouldn't I be?" She answered, dismissiveness creeping into her tone.

"Because you always look me in the eye, even when your angry." Megan slowed her speed and pulled him under an awning. She exhaled slowly through her nose, giving her enough time to collect her thoughts. When she next opened her blue eyes, they instantly sought out the soft, deep brown ones. She could see the hurt within and instantly regretted her actions.

"I'm sorry. Truly, I am. I wasn't angry at you, just myself." He attempted to cut in, but she stopped him with a finger to his lips. "I know what you're going to say. Believe me, you're right. So, I will make you a deal: I keep the pity party at bay for the entire vacation and the night before we leave, I'll show you the best night of your life." At that, his eyes lit up, his brows shooting halfway up his forehead.

"Seriously?" He questioned, unable to keep the excitement out of his voice. A nod. "Wait. Are you sure. I don't want to pressure you into anything…" Megan rolled her eyes and gave him another nod. The smile that split his face was almost comical. "And what if _you_ win?" He added skeptically.

She gave him a sly smirk. _Yep, knew I was going to eat those words_. "Well there's this one espresso machine I've had my eye on for a while now…" Well, if he didn't regret those words before, he did now.

"And before you get any ideas, I want the 900 series. A girl likes her options." With a rueful sigh, he nodded. "Deal."

"Good. I hope you know a good espresso…" She prodded playfully. Rolling his eyes, he leaned down for a kiss. She met him with a smile, allowing herself to be swept away by his ravishing charm. Intertwining their fingers, the two of them stepped back out into the blazing sun, content.

The heat rolled heavily down the street, leaving a sludgy mire of perspiration, dirt and grime that fought hard to cling to every pore it could. Those caught in the thick cloud were not pleased in the slightest, tugging at the clothes that stuck to their bodies like a second skin.

"When I decided to join you on this trip, melting was _not_ on my list of things to do." Kevin complained beside her.

"No kidding, babe. This heat is _killer._ " Megan concurred.

Wiping a few stubborn beads of sweat from her face with the sleeve of her dress, an odd noise caught her attention. It was too far away to distinguish, but it sounded like…fireworks? _Why would they be lighting fireworks during the day?_

"Kevin, do you hear that, that popping noise? Sounds like fireworks, right?"

Craning his neck around, he concentrated on the distant sounds. After a few moments, he turned back to her and shrugged. "I can't tell. Whatever it is, it won't be bothering us any time soon." Spotting a security booth, he pointed towards the group of guards posted outside.

"Excuse us, sir, but do you know what's going on? We heard noises. Is there a celebration going on somewhere?" The guard looked at them with a bored expression on his face. Clearly, the fierce temperatures had not improved his disposition.

"You're not from around here, are you? There's always a celebration going on." The popping noises sprouted up again, closer this time, and much louder. Some of the color drained from his face. "Wait, that sounds like-" Grabbing his helmet off a nearby table, he slipped it on and jogged down the street, pulling a pistol from his belt. The guard poked his head around the corner, and a second time. Fully moving into the alley, he raised his pistol. "Freeze!" Poor bastard didn't stand a chance. Within seconds, his dark red lifeblood sizzled on the hot sidewalk as heavy rounds ripped through his abdominal armor like it was paper.

Megan screamed as she was roughly pulled behind the guards, eyes locked on the horrifying sight before her.

"Call command! Let them know we're under attack! You two, with me. Let's get this son of a bitch!" The commander then turned to them. "Get out of here!" The teachers looked at her with dumbfounded expressions, still overcome with shock. "Now, damnit! Go!" She joined her comrades a moment later, adding her own lead to the firefight.

"Come on, Megan! We have to go!" Kevin yelled, pulling her away from the mounting pile of bodies. He could see more soldiers pouring out of the alleyway, many dressed in civilian clothing. _What the hell is going on?!_ A high-pitched wail tore through the screams and the gunfire as an M990 electrothermal-chemical smoothbore cannon fired through a storefront at the other end of the street, shattering almost every glass pane around it. The high explosive shell detonated inside the small bunker, throwing multi-ton, reinforced concrete chunks high into the air. Megan felt bile rise in her throat as one of the heavy debris crushed a family of four, spraying the street with their mangled, gory remains. She felt the scream die in her throat as the Scorpion tank rumbled to life, crashing through the storefront, picking people off with its coaxial machine gun.

"Oh my god…" Megan muttered, horrified. They sprinted down the street, pushing through families and elderly alike. Above them, explosions dotted the skyline as the invaders engaged security aircraft in beautiful but deadly dogfights. It was like witnessing a car accident: horrible, but you couldn't look away. Bullets whizzed by as the acrid smell of gunpowder and blood filled their nostrils. Her lungs burned and her legs ached horribly. Turns out high heels are not the best shoes to be running in. She tossed them aside in disgust and kept on running, even as the shattered concrete and broken glass carved intricate paths into the bottoms of her feet. The screams of the dying filled the air around them, burning images and sounds into their brains, ensuring this day would never be forgotten.

"Burn, baby, burn!" An enormous gout of blue fire blasted out of a ruined spa like a dragon's maw, encompassing fleeing civilians in its heated gaze. This time Megan _did_ lose her lunch as the propellant-based fuel ate at their flesh, consuming what it wished and charring the rest. Screams of agony resounded in her ears as people desperately tried to smother the flames. Both of them continued to heave until their stomachs had nothing left to offer, the smell of charred remains singeing their senses. All the while they laughed, _laughed,_ at the pain they had willingly inflicted upon others.

"Nice 'un Crispy!" One of them cheered, laughing maniacally.

"Thank ya, Whispy! Hellbringers all the way!" Answered in a tone far too jovial for the atrocity they had just committed. Megan sobbed quietly into Kevin's shoulder as grief and feat slowly overtook her. They had avoided a horrible fate, but they weren't safe, not yet. After a few minutes the soldiers moved on, leaving the couple to fend for themselves as the city slowly tore itself apart.

"We're not safe here. We have to keep moving." Kevin reiterated. As long as they were in the city they were in danger. After a few minutes of quiet sobbing, she looked up from his tear-soaked shoulder. Her eyes were red and he could see the fresh trails as she wept for those who were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Gently, he wiped away the lingering tears, looking deep into her blue eyes. Wordlessly, he gathered himself. He had to stay strong for her. Leading her by the hand, they passed through the line of smoldering bodies, moving toward the outskirts. For almost an hour, they made solid progress, only stopping to rest and once to use the restroom. But like all things, their luck ran out eventually. It all happened so fast. One moment they were sneaking across an abandoned street. The next, Megan was flying through the air, her ears ringing like church bells and screaming bloody murder. Smashing through an office window with all the grace of a drunk elephant, her head slammed against a desk, taking her from the realm of consciousness.

 **December 12, 2561**

 **UNSC** _ **Infinity, C**_ **-deck, bridge**

 **Unknown System**

 **1740 hours**

Lasky tapped his fingers on the arm of his command chair, annoyed. His eyes slowly swept across the bridge, focusing on nothing in particular. Around him, officers worked diligently to keep their boat afloat in the pitch-black waters of the void. He could see the exhaustion and fatigue on their faces as clear as day, as if the emotions themselves had been painted on with a brush. The battle to regain control of their ship had taken so much from all of them. _If those bastards wanted to tear this crew apart, they certainly succeeded._ He could still taste the bitterness of the betrayal, worse than any bullet or knife. The mistrust that the rebels had sown was just one tick mark on a long checklist of problems. It was up to him to solve them. _I can already feel the headache coming on._ The steady, familiar hum of the engines had risen in pitch to an incessant, fluctuating whine as they fought to keep the weakened vessel inside the folds of slipspace. Lasky had to tip his hat to Cortana, Aura and the other engineers for working their magic to get the _Infinity_ space worthy again. But did the results have to be so _grating_? He couldn't remember the last time he wanted to step on a live grenade, just so he wouldn't have to endure this damn noise any longer than he had to.

"If it's any consolation, I don't think we'll have to foot the bill on this one." Palmer spoke, her heavy boots thumping across the deck as she came to a halt beside him.

"A good thing too. That gaping hole alone would cost more than your pension." Lasky joked, a small smile adorning his face.

"A pension, Tom, really? When was the last time you ever heard of a Spartan receiving retirement benefits?" Palmer fired back. Though she meant it playfully, both understood Spartans had unusually short life spans, most of them ending at the business end of a rifle. A semblance of silence descended upon the duo like a thick blanket, muting any further attempts at conversation. Sarah cast numerous glances at her captain, unasked questions dancing around in her skull. Though the cyan visor protected her eyes from injury, it couldn't shield her curiosity from rearing its head. She didn't need a medical degree to see that he was under a lot of stress, they all were. But Lasky had the burden of command to bear. It was one that she was immensely familiar with and that she knew he would need a break after this was all over. They both would. Maybe she could arrange something, but that was for another time. They had other pressing concerns. Like keeping the ship together.

" _Captain, I'm afraid our timetable must be modified."_ Aura's silky steel voice came over the speakers, slightly warbled from the damage to the ship. Lasky gave an exasperated sigh.

"Care to explain why, Aura? I would rather not delay our return, if at all possible. We have wounded that need serious medical attention, not to mention the severe structural damage."

" _If you want to avoid a complete loss of engine integrity and subsequent meltdown, yes. The changes we had to make to turn the energy shield into a temporary solution were…extreme. We will need to drop back into normal space for a few standard Earth hours to allow the engines ample time to cool down."_ Lasky shook his head in defeat. As much as it pained him to do it, they would have to drop out of slipspace to reach their destination. And he would like to avoid turning into atomized particles and space dust if he could help it.

"Understood, Aura." He paused momentarily, as if weighing his options, before speaking again. "Is there anything else I should be aware of?"

" _Just that the engineers are threatening to space me if I do any further damage to their 'baby'. After several inquiries, I came to the conclusion that the joke would backfire. I do not require a mix of oxygen and nitrogen to breathe. They do. I will let you know when we are ready to proceed."_ The channel went dead as the AI disconnected.

 _Great. On top of everything else, I have to deal with a smart-ass Forerunner AI._ Scoffing at the absurdity of it all, Lasky somehow found himself back writing his report to FLEETCOM. He also made sure Roland would send a copy to both ONI and HIGHCOM when the _Infinity_ reestablished reliable communications. Red tape seemed the norm as of late, and he was just doing his best to please as many as he could while stepping on as few toes as possible. The last thing he needed was some high-ranking brass banging down his door at three in the morning because they were 'left out'.

"You're stressed, Tom. You could use a break. Tekes can handle the bridge." She told him gently, resting a gauntlet on his shoulder. In her peripherals, Sarah saw the ship's XO toss them a nod. Apparently, the Spartan commander was not the only one to notice their captain's condition.

"Everyone aboard this vessel could use a break, Sarah."

"But not all of them carry the burden of command."

"I'll rest when we safely get back to Earth." He said stubbornly, "These people are counting on me, Sarah." The Spartan commander crossed her arms, not backing down.

"Not everything needs to be carried on your shoulders, Tom."

"I said I'm fine!" Lasky snapped at her, sleep deprivation and anger nipping at his heels. A few crewmembers turned to them at the outburst but returned to their duties at a wave of the Commander's hand.

"Very well then, _Captain_." She spoke coldly, the use of his official title made him regret the words. "I have other matters to attend to." She added before storming off.

 _Great. Yet another thing I will have to fix._ He thought, massaging his temples.

" _Captain, Aura says they're ready to drop us out of slipspace. You might want to buckle up."_

 **December 14, 2561**

 **New Noida, Falaknuma**

 **18 Scorpii System**

 **1300 hours**

Patricia had not been inside the local ONI offices for five minutes and she already hated it. Its crisp, sterile interior reminded her of a hospital more than any sort of office. She could feel her stomach churn as memories of her husband and daughter rose unbidden to contaminate her consciousness. With its white walls and cold lighting, it felt more like a prison, detached and isolated from everything around it. The use of glass and fauna to add some color to the otherwise bleak lobby felt like an affront to the structure, alien. As if the decorators were compelled to add them, more out of reflex than any sense of belonging. They felt out of place, _wrong_. Dread slithered up her spine like a snake, ready to inject its venom into her body if she made one wrong move.

Truthfully, she was surprised her appointment had been approved. The family of the young woman she had helped save on her home planet of Imber were very grateful. While they had no room to take her in, they asked if there was anything they could do to help her. More out of habit than anything else, she told them the story of the disappearance of her daughter, showing the data chip and expressing hope that she may find her someday. Turns out that woman had a brother who worked in the Office of Naval Intelligence, and while he was unable to provide her with any information, he promised he would secure a meeting for her after being relocated. She half expected the request to be immediately turned down, but without the war going on, the intelligence service had a lot more time on their hands now. She clutched the data chip to her chest, a beacon of hope in an ocean of dread and doubt. All these years of searching might finally pay off. The thousands of hours she had logged on both Waypoint and ChatterNet would finally lead her somewhere. Maybe not to her daughter, but to a clue, another piece of the puzzle.

 _I may have another lead, Douglas. Better than anything else. Not a rumor or conspiracy theory, but a meeting with ONI! We've looked for answers for so long…exhausted all our options. It consumed our lives…but with this meeting we may finally find her. Our daughter, our little sapphire._ She closed her eyes as the emotions swirling behind them threatened to spill over.

"Mrs. Patricia Shaddock?" She looked up at the mention of her name to come face to face with a virtual giant. Built like a brick wall, the gun on his hip was almost laughable in comparison. The man looked like he could snap a Spartan in half without breaking a sweat. But his eyes shined brightly, not yet dulled by the morally grey areas in which ONI operated.

"Yes?"

"If you will please follow me." He was succinct but professional and polite, something Patricia could appreciate. She followed a few steps behind him as he set a leisurely pace, conscientious of her smaller stature. So far, he was a far cry from the elderly receptionist, who sneered at her while she was forced to explain she _did_ indeed have an appointment and it _was_ important. They entered the nearest elevator and he keyed in the 47th floor. "Don't mind James. Someone keeps pissing in his coffee." He spoke, noticing her sour demeanor.

"Thank you." He gave her a short nod. "Are you the agent that I'm supposed to meet or…"

He gave her another nod. "Yes. I owed a few favors and Yammy was just one of few to cash in." A look flashed in his eyes, one she had seen on Imber many times. Unspeakable horrors that no language had the ability to express, memories that would haunt them to the end.

"Yammy? That was not the name he gave me." She questioned cautiously, afraid she had stepped on a nerve.

The man gave a light chuckle at some unknown memory. "No. It was a nickname he earned when we served together. Used to bake amazing sweet potato dishes whenever we came back home." Patricia gave him a warm smile. "Sorry for the trip down memory lane. Name's Brian. Brian Smir" Patricia remained silent as the elevator reached its destination. Stepping out, she followed the agent, doing her best to ignore the stares from everyone else. Entering an unmarked door, she came face to face with an equally unremarkable room. A metal table and a couple of folding chairs sat in the center, an island of steel among the concrete. What little space remained was allotted to a jug of water and a single decaying plant, which was little more than a pile of sticks at this point.

"This isn't an interrogation, but it was the best I could do on such short notice. ONI doesn't really take well to surprises. If you learn anything today is that ONI's network of favors is almost as large as its intelligence network." He gestured for her to take a seat.

"It will do." Patricia pulled the chain over her head, letting it rest heavily in her hand. It pulsed regularly, like a heartbeat, almost as if it was encouraging her to tell her story. To find answers. She nervously licked her lips; her mouth felt like a desert. Swallowing the dry lump in her throat, she began her story. "My daughter went missing more than four decades ago."

"Ma'am, I'm sorry for your loss, but this isn't an ONI concern. You should talk with the police." Patricia glared icily at him. She was done being brushed off. "I'm not finished." The agent leaned back in his chair, his eyes wide in surprise. Clearly, he had not expected such a reaction. Curling her hands gently around the chip, she pushed on. "I have talked with hundreds of people, Agent Smir. Police, governments, politicians, social workers and anyone else who would listen. Many were like you, dismissive and unconcerned with our plight. My late husband and I spent our lives searching for her." The anger rescinded just as quickly as it arrived, taking her confidence with it. "If ONI can't help me, I don't know how much longer I can keep going…You're my final hope." Patricia slumped in her chair as the final words left her mouth. She was exhausted from years of searching. After her husband died, it had been the only thing to keep her going. But she was at her wit's end. But her life was starting to fall apart, like a rope beginning to fray after years of strain and stress. Meeting her daughter was a certainty. It was only a question of if it would be in this life or the next.

"I was curious about why you were here, Mrs. Shaddock. Now, you have my attention." He said, sitting back down, doing his best to ignore the complaining furniture below him. Leaning back into the rigid chair, Brian resisted the twitches in his muscles urging him to fold his arms in front of him. He wanted garner information and backing the widow into a corner was not the way to go about it. Gently, he set a data pad on the table with a soft _clack_. "Well then, let's find out what _really_ happened."

* * *

"None of this makes any sense to me, I'm afraid. None of the time tables match up. And this bit about secret projects under ONI's oversight? I can tell you for a fact that's not true." Patricia couldn't stop shaking. Her final, desperate attempt for answers, gone. Popped like a balloon. The final dam of hope against the onslaught of pain and sorrow had finally broken. She had exhausted all of her avenues. There was nothing left for her now.

Brian placed his hand atop hers until she met his eyes. "Hey, I'm sorry. Truly, I am. But there is nothing we can do. It may be time to face the fact that your daughter is gone. I wish I had something more to offer than empty words." His heart broke at the woman's plight, but he had directives to uphold. She shook her head, offering him a small, sad smile.

"No. I should be thanking you. Your words may not have been the ones I wanted, but I guess I just needed someone to finally say them. I just wish my husband could have been here. At the end, all he wanted was closure." She ran a thumb along the small chip, memories of a happier time caressing her consciousness.

"Is this the only copy? Of the data, I mean. I can ask around, see what my superiors have to say. It's a big network after all. Somebody must have seen something." The questions killed him inside. Misleading a clearly distraught widow like this? It was like nails on a chalkboard, permanently scarring his moral compass. But ONI directives are clear and leave no room for error or interpretation.

"Yes," she lied. "Just promise me you'll take good care of it. It's really all I have left of my family." What the agent didn't know was that she had made multiple copies on the encouragement of the ONI operative. She didn't know exactly what they would do with it, but just by looking at the building's exterior, was certain she would never see it again. The pain of the betrayal was as real as she was but for the sake of her baby, she had to keep up the act. Now it was a battle of deceit and misinformation. This may be ONI's battlefield, but Patricia was learning fast.

She felt a pang of sadness as Agent Smir slipped the chip into his pocket. "Don't worry," He said reassuringly, noticing the longing look she gave the device. "It's in good hands." She offered a timid nod in return. _Liar._ "I'll show you out." Their steps echoed in the empty halls as she trailed behind the mammoth of a man. Once she was out the front doors, he quickly made his way up to his office. Pouring himself a glass of wine, he took a slow sip, savoring the subtle hints of chocolate and raspberries. His com link chipped loudly, annoyed at his sluggish pace. Keying into the channel, he addressed the person on the other end. "Yes, sir…Yes, though I had the feeling she didn't know what she truly possessed. Some of the documents made references to Section Three, but nothing concrete. Pretty impressive for a civilian…I understand…No, I have it. And before you ask it was the only copy…Of course I'll do a surveillance sweep…I will have the data copied and sent right over…Standard erase and destroy, understood…Do you want me to keep tabs on her, sir…What do I think? I think she's been through enough. You didn't see how broken she was, the hopelessness in her eyes as I lied to her face. In all honesty, I think she's done with it all. Keep a few passive tabs on her for a couple of months than let her be…Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." He ended the call and tossed the earpiece on his desk. Plopping into his plush chair, he let material do its best to absorb him. Those metal chairs were always hard on his spine. He would send the data, along with their entire conversation over for analysis. But first, he was going to finish his wine.

Back on the street, Patricia fell into step with the throng of citizens and refugees. The noise and dirt were a relief for her after being in that quiet, sterile environment for so long. She allowed her mind to drift as her feet ferried her to her next destination. She dipped into a passing alley to shake any possible pursuers. She had seen it in an action vid once. A thrill went up her spine as she circumvented the putrid dumpsters and cries of the needy. Exiting out the other side, she quickly slithered through the crowd, careful not to bump into anyone. _Oh, I feel ten years younger!_ A small laugh bubbled up and she let it out, not remotely interested in the confused and alarmed looks she received in return. Pausing only to purchase a prepaid communication device, she maintained her steady pace. Inserting the device, she ran through the officer's instructions. Connecting the call took a few minutes, but Patricia was in no hurry; watching people pass by, consumed by their own affairs.

" _Who is this?"_ A woman's voice snapped in her ear. Patricia had been told not to mince words and got directly to the point.

"I was told I could cash in a favor."

" _From who?"_

"The potato man." She spoke coolly, using the code words that should get her what she needed if she was stonewalled by ONI, which was exactly what happened. Personally, she thought the phrase a bit inane, but if it helped her find her lost daughter, she would utter every silly word she could think of. The harsh _click_ of the com line going dead brought her crashing back to reality. _What the heck? I though thi-_

 **INBOUND CALL (ENCRYPTED)- UNKNOWN LISTING**

 ***Exercise Caution***

The words blinked on the small eyepiece, refusing to be ignored. Hesitantly, she answered, her fingers shakily accepting the call as if she was diffusing a bomb.

"Hello?"

" _Sorry about that. Had to make sure ONI couldn't listen in, the nosey fuckers."_ The woman let out an angry huff through her nose. Clearly, whoever this woman was, she didn't think very highly of the intelligence community. " _Now, what can I do for ya?"_

"Are you any good at…hacking? I need to send a message." Patricia asked, barely above a whisper. The woman laughed at that, pulling Patricia's features into a frown. She couldn't help it if this stuff was foreign to her!

" _Listen. I'm the best in the business. What do you need?"_

"I need to send a message to the leader of the Office of Naval Intelligence. In a way that reaches her directly and can't be screened out." The woman let out a low whistle.

" _Damn. That's some serious shit right there. Admiral Ozzy, you say? Normally, for a job like this I would charge an arm and a leg, but since you did my friend a serious solid, I'll let it slide."_ Patricia finally allowed herself to breathe again. The pressure that had constricted her chest floated away like midday clouds. She smiled, a big toothy one that had been hidden behind wounded eyes and a shattered heart. And just like that, her emotional experience inside that prison that ONI called offices was washed from her mind.

"Thank you." She choked out between sniffles.

" _Nah, don't mention it. Hell, I'd bring down the entire UNSC to find my kid."_ The woman was silent for almost a full five minutes as she worked her magic. " _Alright, what do you want me to say?"_ Patricia relayed the message, confidence flowing into her with each word she spoke. The two of them read it over a few times, just to be sure. It had to be perfect. Her little sapphire was counting on it.

"I think that looks good." Patricia said, satisfied.

" _I agree. I hope you find your little girl."_ The hacker responded, her voice laced with undertones of hope. " _And hey, it's better than most of the messages I send to her."_

"This isn't your first time with ONI?"

" _Oh no,"_ The hacker replied gleefully. Patricia swore she _heard_ the other woman's eyes glint mischievously. " _Every few months or so I send her a little 'relations package', just to show 'em I can rifle through their dirty laundry whenever I feel the need. Sent one poor analyst to the hospital after he had a meltdown."_

Though their business was concluded, Patricia wanted to hear the rest of this little tale. "Really? What's inside this 'relations package'?"

" _Alien porn."_ The hacker responded without missing a beat. The silver-haired woman choked on her drink, her face blossoming a bright red.

"W-what?!" She stammered. "That's- That's-"

" _Yeah, I know, right!? Do yourself a favor, don't look up anything to do with Jackals. That shit is nas-tay."_

"I'll remember that." Her diaphragm hurt from laughing so hard. Excitement was something in short supply before she left her home. Now…she never felt more alive. Perhaps she was overstating things a bit, but the widow wished she had done this years before. Regretfully, not everyone could see how revitalized she had become. At this sobering thought, she shook her head, releasing a heavy sigh from her lips. "Again. Thank you."

" _Again, no problem."_ The hacker answered, mirroring her words. " _Gotta go! Got another job. Don't worry about ONI, they'll leave you alone. Just a bit pissy that I rifled through their dirty secrets again. And don't stress about little miss Ozzy either. She'll get the message and come running. Tell her Taurus says hi. And if you see my idiot friend again, tell him his codenames are fucking stupid. Good luck, peace out, all that shit."_ And just like that, the line went dead, leaving the widow to enjoy the city. Nothing to do now but wait.

 **December 16, 2561**

 **UNSC** _ **Infinity, S-**_ **deck, Spartan Quarters**

 **Slipspace, in Transit to Tribute**

 **2215 hours**

Kelly waited patiently outside of her quarters, eyes closed to shut out the vibrant lighting. Amber slept soundly across the hall, exhausted by the day's events. The young Sangheili had shown a keen interest in MJOLNIR armor and had scurried around the armor bays for most of the day. While it was beyond her understanding, Kelly was pleased her daughter had found something to spark her interest (and undying curiosity). Silence had always been unnerving for the Spartan. It allowed them time to think. And lately, Kelly had much to ponder.

 _I wonder what Halsey would think of the new me? Joy? Understanding? Disgust? I guess it doesn't matter in the end, though…Sandra's opinion is the only one that matters. John and the others are supportive, in their own way, but they don't understand. Perhaps it's for the best. Blue Team cannot afford to fail. The mission comes first. Always._

That got her thinking. What was her mission, long term? Did it remain within the confines of the UNSC? What would happen if the completely stepped out the mold she had lived in all her life? No mission, no objectives, it was terrifying. Despite that fear, Kelly was confident she could learn to adapt, to _live_.

"Ready?" The heavens opened their gates, bathing the Spartan in brilliant golden rays. Warm beams caressed her skin like a lover on a summer's night, gentle and nurturing. _The voice of an angel._ Its melodic chords resounded in her chest, giving her strength. A hint of a smile broke through her stoic exterior. "Hey, are you alright?" Kelly gave short nod.

"Fine."

"You know what fine stands for, right?" The smile obvious in the blonde's playful words. _Here we go._

"Do tell." Kelly replied sardonically, doing her best to ignore how close her lover was.

"Fucked up, insecure, neurotic and emotional. Now are you _sure_ you're fine?" Cracking an eye open, she gave Sandra the most disappointed look she could muster. As usual, it had absolutely no effect to discourage her partner's behavior, only eliciting a dazzling smile that sent shivers down her spine.

"You are a child." She chided the shorter Spartan, not daring to mention a few other adjectives that were swirling around in her head. Kelly would never hear the end of it. The last thing she wanted to do was inflate her overzealous ego.

"Yes, but I'm _your_ child." Sandra said, stepping into Kelly's space. "Wait. That sounded wrong. Please forget I said that." Kelly flashed her a sly smirk, enjoying the horror in the woman's green pools. _That's for all the times you blindsided me._

"Please. I'll do anything!"

" _Anything_?" Kelly pushed, enjoying these vocal battles. She didn't have to duck.

"I've said it once, I'll say it again. You have a dirty mind, Blue Four." Kelly moved off the titanium wall, rolling her stiff shoulders. Sandra must have noticed because her eyes lit up. "How about a massage?"

"A…massage?" The scout parroted, confused.

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, she led the older Spartan by the hand into their room. Adjusting the light settings to 'candlelight', Sandra pointed at the bed. "Lay down." Kelly followed the command, easing into the stiff cot as best she could. Sandra slid in after a moment, straddling her waist. Her muscles tightened reflexively, like a rattlesnake preparing to strike. "Damn, your back feels like Luna looks after a meteor shower!" The older soldier only growled as Sandra's lithe, powerful fingers dug into her skin.

Miraculously, her partner's hands hadn't strayed into territory that would be deemed…inappropriate, something Kelly was immensely thankful for. Surrounded by titanium, sound tended to _travel_. Apologizing to the poor soul that got an earful of their nightly activities was not going to happen. Ever. "I'm surprised you haven't groped me yet." Kelly said, voicing the thought in her head.

"Oh, I've thought about it. But I wouldn't poke the sleeping dragon if I were you."

"And what if I do?" Kelly shot back, a low moan escaping from her lips as Sandra tackled a particularly difficult knot.

Sandra leaned in close, pressing herself into Kelly's back, and whispered seductively into her ear. "Try it and find out." Kelly's skin exploded with color, her pale skin taking on a healthy shade of pink. Sandra's more intimate comments never failed to excite her. The shiver of pleasure lanced down her spine proved this time was no different. She was tempted to, _oh_ _so_ tempted. To rouse the dragon; to be completely consumed by its alluring, carnal flame. Her training and instincts fought the raging fires of desire that burned in her core, using logic to douse the blaze before it consumed everything in sight.

"Sandra?" Her voice was tainted with desire, but she held fast. There was a question she needed an answer to. Mercifully, Sandra noted the subtle undertones in her lover's shaky words and gave the older Spartan room to breathe. Forest green pools met her own and the world melted away. Kelly could see the answer swirling inside viridescent orbs, unspoken but resolute. "What's our objective?"

"For our next mission? I don't-" Sandra began, tilting her head, blonde tresses flowing over her shoulder like a golden waterfall. It was one of many things Kelly found endearing.

"No," Kelly interrupted. "I mean with us."

A look of realization passed over her pup's face. "Oh. Well, I, uh…I'm not sure. But whatever comes next, we'll tackle it head on. Together." Sandra enwrapped her bunny's lips in a kiss, petrissage forgotten.

"Together." Kelly whispered when they broke apart. The younger Spartan climbed into the bed, snuggling up against her lover. Even the incessant whine of the overtaxed hybrid engines couldn't keep them from succumbing to the embrace of sleep. War would call upon them in the coming days. And they would answer, as they always did. Alone, they were formidable. Together…they were unstoppable.

 **Come Back Next Time!**

Glad you made it to the end! Hope you all enjoyed the next step in the RW adventure. Next chapter the action ramps up as the fighting spreads throughout Humanity Mall. Fear not, for our fearless Spartans are set to meet the enemy! Thanks again for your continued support for this series! As always, a big shout out to my editor. For without him, my chapters would look like garbage. Don't forget to favorite, follow and review!


	13. Silent but Hyper Lethal

**The Rabbit and the Wolfe**

Back again for another chapter of Halo goodness! Sorry for the long wait but life got in the way again. We are dropping back into the action as Blue Team lands on Tribute to deal with the growing Insurrectionist front. Enjoy the action!

 **13: Silent but Hyper Leathal**

 **December 20, 2561**

 **UNSC** _ **Infinity, S-**_ **deck, Hangar 15-B**

 **Epsilon Eridani System**

 **1440 hours**

The _Infinity_ was currently holding position on the dark side of Tribute's single moon, Emese. While the idiom "dark" or "far side of the Moon" was somewhat of an outdated concept, considering all that Humanity had accomplished since they first took to stars centuries ago, the phrase was still accurate.

"Remind me why we have to toss ourselves out of a perfectly good bird again?" Sandra asked, a bored look on her face. She was currently decked out in her purple MJOLNIR armor, sans helmet. That, she was using to catch the playing cards, like a miniature solo game of gravball. So far, she had only missed four times. _Not too shabby, if I do say so myself,_ she thought few failures were scattered on the ground like confetti, forgotten.

"Because," Fred spoke up as he poured over the weapon lockers. "That's the plan." That brought a peel of laughter from the youngest member of Blue Team.

"Ha, good one Fred. The last 'plan' you had threw me into an ice wall!" Fred frowned behind his helmet, finally settling on a DMR with a Recon sight. He had a feeling that the tight corners of their AO would render any of the long-range scopes a pain to use. Ensuring the weapon was in working order, he allowed the magnetic strip on his back to take hold of it before setting off in search of another suitable weapon, forcing the blonde's comment to go unanswered.

Heavy footfalls dully rang out across the empty hangar, drawing the attention of all three Spartans. Kelly moved purposefully across the room, armed with an assault rifle and her shotgun, _Oathsworn_. She was one of the last ones to gear up because she had to wrangle a clingy, stubborn Sangheili child. Amber had just been reunited with her parents and was not eager to be separated again so soon. The scout had more than once wished she was fighting a Hunter bond pair…barehanded. At least then she could have at least _attempted_ to beat the creatures into submission. With Amber, all she had were her words and gentle touches, neither of which she was fluent with. Eventually, she had coaxed her daughter to go with Dr. Cassidy, much to the Spartan's relief. _Maybe I've been underestimating my parenting skills?_ But that was a question for another time. For now, she had a mission to complete.

Resting her rifle next to her lover's older, but still violently effective, BR55, Kelly swiped a small handful of cards and began her own game of toss. Sandra pouted, but gave the white Spartan a playful bump with her shoulder.

"Oi, those were mycards!"

"That's right; they _were_." Kelly replied mischievously, her small smile hidden behind the opaque visor. Rolling her eyes, Sandra's pout melted away like titanium under a plasma bombardment. With nothing more to do until Chief returned, she allowed her mind to wander. _God, she's so beautiful, even in full armor. Mom, I'm so glad she fell off that cliff. Well, not so much the fall, that had to hurt like hell. I meant the hormone…you know what, it doesn't matter. She's gorgeous, can kick some serious ass, and she's mine._ That familiar warmth bubbled in her chest whenever thoughts of her bunny entered her mind. _But what's next for us? As much as I would love to stomp in Covenant skulls with her till I'm old and gray, we couldn't do that to Amber. Spartans aren't known to have the safest job in the galaxy. And our daughter has been through more than enough. The safest bet would be to retire. But_ _ **can**_ _Spartans even retire?_ She gave a sidelong glance towards Kelly and the others. _Would the UNSC let them? Would ONI?_ Her mood instantly soured as if someone had urinated in her canteen. _Those bastards have a tendency to take 'termination of employment' literally. I have serious doubts they would let a bunch of Spartans run around unsupervised. Especially under that bitch, Osman._

"What's wrong?" Kelly asked from beside her. _Damn it,_ Sandra thought. Her sour mood must have seeped into her facial expressions.

"Nothing." Sandra retorted, trying to play it off. Kelly turned to face her, arms crossed. The message was clear: _Really? Well, I don't believe that for a second._ Releasing a long sigh through her nose, Sandra looked straight into where the woman's deep sapphires were held behind her gold visor.

"You really want to know?" The shorter Spartan pressed. A nod. "ONI. I don't really want to talk about it." Any further response was cut off by the sound of approaching footsteps. Commander Palmer came into view first, carrying what appeared to be two dull gray oversized briefcases. Chief stepped into view not a second after, towering almost half a foot taller than the Commander in his green Mjolnir armor.

"Situation's changed, Blue Team." Palmer declared, laying the cases on the table. Fred, Linda and the others shared a glance. None of them liked surprises, especially right before an op.

"Ma'am?" Linda questioned. Chief rejoined his team as Palmer spoke.

"Originally, the plan was to send you in with the other ground teams. That was before we spotted the Front orbiting Tribute." The _Infinity_ was the UNSC's flagship. Its biggest, most heavily armed vessel ever created by human hands. Normally, taking on a cobbled fleet of skiffs, corvettes, prowlers and a few frigates would not be much of a challenge. Not unless they were packing nukes. The Spartans picked up on her train of thought.

"But the _Infinity_ is compromised." Fred said, voicing his observation.

"Right." Palmer acknowledged. "That's where our problem lies. Coms are back online, _barely_ , but our closest reinforcements are half a day out. Even with our probes, we're in the dark." She popped the latches on the heavy cases, throwing their lids back until they locked into place. "We need eyes and ears down there. Now. We can't afford to wait." Operations without sufficient intel tended to go south. Fast. And Blue Team wanted to avoid that, if at all possible.

"How do we get to the surface?" Kelly asked. Sandra nodded in assent. It was a sound question. If the Front had a blockade, getting to the surface may be a challenge.

"Drop pods. Specifically, the long-range stealth kind." Palmer couldn't keep the smile out of her voice as Sandra groaned and cursed under her breath. As ODST's, Sandra and Palmer had spent more time in pods than anyone else in the room. Single Occupant Exoatmospheric Insertion Vehicles, more informally known as drop pods or 'eggs', are enclosed capsules that carry an occupant from high orbit to the surface. The long-range stealth version (LRSOIP) are used to fire occupants from slipspace to their target. Or in a pinch, can be used to slip a team behind an enemy blockade to the planet below. The ride was often quick, bumpy as hell, and for a few unlucky troopers, fatal. If there was one thing she was grateful for about being a Spartan it was being rid of those damn pods. And here she was, years later, about to climb back into the claustrophobic fuckers. "Since the _Infinity_ can't expose itself, we'll slingshot you around the moon. With any luck, you'll land around a klick or so outside of the city, completely undetected.

"Except for the impact of five drop pods carrying fully equipped Spartans." Sandra interjected snidely. The Commander frowned behind her helmet, but the woman did have a valid point.

"True." She said, conceding the point. "We can only hope their too busy to investigate." Palmer didn't like placing lives of any soldier in the hands of things like faith and hope, but in this case, there was no other choice. "I know the last place any of you want to be is strapped into a metal pod careening towards the surface, so I brought you a few gifts." She gestured to the table, where a mixture of suppressors, active camouflage modules, and other assorted tech lay nestled safely within its casing. "Good luck, Blue Team." With a final nod to the Spartans, the Commander took her leave, her armored boots heavily thumping their way across the hangar deck.

Linda was the first one to the table, her armored frame practically shaking with glee. It wasn't often Spartans got to play with such toys, but when they did…well, that's when the fun _really_ began. Moving like a well-oiled machine, she quickly encompassed half a table, her fingers flowing like water over the available ordinance. By the time Fred took a place at the table, she had stripped _Nornfang_ down to its skeleton and laid it out, exchanged her M6H out for twin Tactical magnums with integral suppressors and was currently fitting a suppressor to her BR85. _Wow, she moves fast,_ Sandra thought as she made her way to the table. With five Spartans and all their gear on one table it was cramped, but doable.

Her older style BR55 was the first of her arsenal to receive its own mute button. Well, that's more of a misnomer, as suppressors don't make weapons completely silent, just reduces the noise and presence of the weapon to more manageable levels. _But it's better than letting the entire Front know where we are._ Reluctantly, she replaced her M6D with a Tactical magnum. Though they shared the same ammunition type, Sandra preferred the 'feel' of the larger handgun. Compared to the older variant, which desperately tried to break her wrist each pull of the trigger, the H variant felt like she was throwing pebbles. But a rock in the right place could still kill a soldier, and that's the only thing which mattered. Finally, she settled on the M20, the post war variant of the beloved SMG. Fully kitted out for urban engagements, she joined the others by the door.

All the other members of Blue Team had the same idea, focusing on short to medium range weapons. None of her teammates had brought anything stronger than a fragmentation grenade. On the one hand, they could move quickly, and stealthily, thanks to their camouflage units. But if they got bogged down in a firefight, they could be in serious trouble.

"Ready?" Chief asked, looking to each of the Spartans around him. Four acknowledgement lights winked on his HUD. Giving them a slight nod, he led the way towards the SOEIV bay. It was time to drop feet first into hell.

 **UNSC** _ **Infinity, S-**_ **deck, SOEIV Bay 4**

 **1500 hours**

Kelly felt cramped. No, cramped was being shoved into a pelican with a dozen of her brothers and sisters. This was worse. She felt like she was being crushed, even inside her armor. While she was never claustrophobic, she could understand why ODSTs hated these things. Why _Sandra_ hated them. It was one thing to charge headlong into the enemy. It was another thing entirely to climb into what was essentially a metal coffin, blast yourself into a wall of AA fire designed to shorten your trip dramatically, crash land and _then_ charge headlong into enemy fire. Spartans may be walking, talking tanks, but ODST were downright insane. _Crazy bastards._ Shaking her head to clear the errant thoughts, she tapped into the TEAMCOM.

"Systems are green. Safeties disengaged. Ejection tube…armed." She relayed. With the hatch closed there was nothing she could do but wait. She was the fourth to report in. Only John had yet to prepare for launch. Though she couldn't see anything beyond the small viewports built into the body of the pod, Linda told the others that technicians were computing a few last-minute adjustments. As the minutes ticked by, Kelly swiftly moved from annoyed to agitated. Tapping out a silent beat on her leg had quickly worn out its welcome. Though she hated the phrase when it came to her lover, 'the mission always comes first' suddenly found itself with much more merit. She wanted to get down there. She wanted to help others, to take the fight to the enemy. Sitting up here would accomplish nothing.

" _This is Blue Leader. Blue Team is ready to launch._ " Like a glass of cold water on a hot summer day, Chief's familiar voice eased her fraying patience.

" _Blue Team, this is Lasky. The Infinity is in no shape to clear a path. Once you leave this ship you're on your own."_

" _Understood."_ If their stealth coating failed or if they were spotted before entry, the _Infinity_ would need a broom to recover the Spartans.

A deployment counter appeared on the holographic display on her pod and was mirrored in her HUD. Thirty seconds before they launched. After that, the Spartans would remain radio silent until they landed planet side to avoid detection. With the _Infinity_ crippled such as it was, would hold position behind the moon in an effort to draw as little attention as possible. For the next twelve hours, they would be the only forces from the UNSC _Infinity_ on Tribute. Not a comforting thought.

 _20 seconds…_

Fear crept silently up her spine, causing the woman to shiver. She feared not only for herself and her team, but her lover and daughter who would be out of reach for the entire duration of this flight. Against all logic, she wished they were dropping via a stealth Pelican, just to be able to hold Sandra's hand. Some semblance of comfort, reassurance. But like breathing in complete vacuum, it was impossible.

 _10 seconds…_

She inhaled deeply and held it. _How could Sandra do this time after time?!_ The docking clamps above her disengaged with a loud _hiss._ Now the pod would be able to drop through its tube unhindered. Kelly wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.

 _5…_

 _4…_

 _3…_

 _2…_

 _1…_

Like a flick of a switch or a snap of the fingers, her pod plummeted through its tube. If Kelly wasn't a seasoned soldier with over three decades of battle under her belt she would have screamed bloody murder. Instead, she gripped the handholds with so much force, her knuckles turned white. Her organs surged upwards like a tidal wave and she swore she could taste a lung. Or was it her kidneys? The scout did not have much time to mull over the jumbled state of her internal organs as the titanium gray of the flagship suddenly fell away, giving way to the unending cosmos. Releasing the breath she had been holding, she allowed herself to take in the grandeur of the void that surrounded her pod like a cloak. She was momentarily ejected from her musings as her maneuvering thrusters engaged, the pinpricks of blue light angling and accelerating the pod to achieve a successful slingshot around the moon.

Compared to the Pelican ride down to Teash, the fierce suborbital burn to break Emese's gravitational pull was gentle, almost to the point of being nonexistent. Kelly glanced down at her readouts as her pod assumed its proper trajectory. The _Infinity's_ probe network had done its job: mapping the Front's fleet had shown several small holes in their blockade. They were too small for a corvette or a large class prowler, but the pods had plenty of room to spare. If all went according to plan, they would slip right past, the enemy none the wiser. But if their sensors were sophisticated enough or if they flew too close to a window… _Amber becomes an orphan, again._ And Kelly would _not_ let that happen, though ironically, she had no control over the present situation. She tapped out a few commands, bringing up the locations of the rest of her team. The small screen displayed them flying in a loose V-formation, right on target. As the first shadow slowly crept into the small cabin, the scout glanced up at the small corvette that swallowed the entirety of the observational window.

Up close, the ships showed their age, as plasma burns and missile detonations marred their coats. Some of them were _ancient_ , dating back to the early 2400's, according to her HUD. The buildup of years did not seem to hamper their captains, who presented each injury like a badge of honor, daring anyone to argue. Calling it a fleet would be an insult to fleets everywhere, but that did not change the facts: the _Infinity_ would be torn apart in minutes. The veteran was shaken from her thoughts as her pod began to rumble and her HUD noted an uptick in temperature. Her first thought was that they were under attack or her pod had been breached. But none of those came to pass. No, they were just entering the upper atmosphere. She wanted to reach out to her team, to Sandra, but communications were impossible until they cleared the interference generated by the re-entry.

The pods hurtled downwards like meteors, the night air being ripped apart before them like grunts caught in a brute's rampage. Whatever gods lingered in the heavens above must have not filled their fun quota for the day because her pod began to shake so fiercely her augmented bones began to move in step with such a jarring dance. The alloy hand holds were the recipients of further abuse as her gauntlets dug deeper into them, putting them under strains they were never designed for. _It this what Sandra went through on every deployment?! I'd gladly take my chances in a dropship! Least then I can actually do something about it!_

" _Blue 4 adjus…yo…trejecto…"_ Chief's voice crackled through her helmet speakers. The message was garbled, but she followed the command. She had fallen out of formation due to the steep angle of entry and was in danger of careening completely off course. Her pod was brought back into formation with a few taps of the keys and allowed her organs to finally settle. Mostly. When the pods hit the 50-meter mark, cyan flame seemingly burst from thin air as the retrorockets in the Spartans' pods activated, drastically slowing the metal coffins. Kelly and the others slammed into the bowels of a shallow ravine, throwing up dust, dirt and rocks like confetti. Blinking away the abrupt impact, she hit the hatch release. Pulling the assault rifle from its cradle inside her pod, the scout quickly fanned out, scanning the low walls with her weapon.

" _All clear. Don't know for how long though_." She reported via TEAMCOM, returning to her pod to scavenge weapons and ammunition.

" _Our new friends might have heard us. I say we split, head for the nearest established civilization."_ Fred chipped in.

" _Linda?"_

" _There's a major city roughly two klicks from here. Intel says it was rebuilt from the ruins of the former capital, Casbah. Local chatter refers to it as…Humanity Mall."_ Kelly had no clue how her sister had got on top of the ridge so fast, but she didn't bother to ask. She gave a short not to a set of purple armor, which was swiftly returned. They were on a mission, kisses and cuddles would have to wait.

" _Copy that. Linda, give us a waypoint."_ Chief said, nimbly scaling the sheer rock face despite the Mjolnir's bulk. Clipping a final fragmentation grenade to her waist, Kelly activated her night vision, painting her HUD green. Offering her weapons one final check, she followed the rest of Blue Team out of the ditch onto an open plateau. The wind picked up dust, drawing lazy patterns with, like an artist practicing a new technique. With any luck, no one will have noted the pods come in. If they did, Kelly hoped they would already be deep within the city by then. If not, this mission would get much more interesting. With only a cursory glance to make sure they were all present, John gestured to fall out. They had a long trek ahead. This op was just getting started.

 **Humanity Mall, Tribute**

 **Epsilon Eridani System**

 **1740 hours**

Megan peered around the corner slowly, doing her best to control her ragged breathing and jerky movements. The street ahead lay empty, dark and foreboding in the waning hours of the evening. Flames settled in the burnt-out shells of automobiles, shadows flickering along the walls from one metal berth to the next. She was safe, at least momentarily. Breathing a sigh of relief, she slid to the ground, her legs finally giving out after hours of running and hiding. What had started out as a dream vacation had dissolved into a nightmare. She was all alone, in a city under attack, and as far as she knew, no one was coming to save them. She laughed mirthlessly as she took in the state of herself. Her once beautiful and flowing sundress was now nothing but a dirty rag, clinging uselessly by a patch of cloth that refused to give. Cuts, bruises and scraped marred her skin, a reminder of each fall she had taken, each mistake she had made. Dried blood was caked to the bottoms of her feet as shattered glass and broken pavement did its best to impede her progress. But even the bullets and wounds couldn't hide the shame she felt. She had stolen clothes from a nearby shop a day or two before. Even thinking about it now filled her with embarrassment. Inane as it was given the current situation, she couldn't just shut down her morals on a whim. Her parents had raised her to be better than this.

 _Kevin, where are you, baby?_ When she woke up a few hours later after being blown through a window, she searched for him everywhere. After searching high and low, she found absolutely no sign of him, as if he just vanished off the face of the earth. At first, she feared he was dead, taken by the blast that rendered her unconscious, but held out hope that he had just been taken prisoner. Megan didn't want to consider which was the better option. Releasing a heavy sigh through her nose, she moved down the street, sticking to the shadows. A pair of Wasps buzzed angrily overhead, their autocannons sweeping the street, ready to shred anything that moved. To her dismay, the craft slowed to a stop a few hundred meters ahead, their ducted fan engines keeping them aloft and effectively cutting her off.

"Crap!" She hissed, ducking down behind the remains of a vehicle. The fire that blazed within bathed her in its warmth, filling her aching body with strength. She _would_ survive, she _would_ find Kevin and they _would_ get out of here. Tearing a strip off her sundress, she tied her cerulean hair back in a ponytail before throwing the remains into the fire. Now, without the extra layers, the evening chill was that much sharper, burrowing into her skin and sending a shiver down her spine. Gunfire shattered the calm of the evening air, whipping the wasps into a frenzy. Their turrets leapt into action, spitting hot lead indiscriminately at the shadows behind her. Swallowing the scream that threatened to rip itself from her lungs, she crawled under the nearest car, the coarse asphalt and shattered glass digging into the vulnerable flesh of her stomach. Indistinct shouting rang out through the impromptu battlefield, mixing with the screams and moans of the dying to create a nauseating slurry of noise that would make the hardiest civilian lose their lunch.

Bullets pinged off her hiding spot as the battle surged towards her. Shouts, once muted by distance, rang with crystal clarity in such close proximity. Two soldiers rolled into her view, locked in deadly combat. Their identities were shielded by their clothing and armor, but the sounds of fist meeting flesh churned the teachers stomach once more. Flipping their positions, the soldier slammed his fist into the other man's face like a viper uncoiling to strike. Megan could only watch on, helpless, as a man was beaten to death right before her eyes. With a sickeningly wet _crack,_ the soldier's arms went slack as the life left his body. The lone remaining soldier was gone in a heartbeat, his enemy already forgotten. Salty tears stung her eyes like liquid daggers as bursts of golden death shone light upon the body, as if trying to resuscitate the lost soul. The patch on his shoulder marked him as Tribute militia, the gold and white crest rendered black as it soaked up the blood of its wearer. The man's helmet lay useless beside him, knocked away as his killer scrambled back into the fight. Barely out of his teens, his glassy eyes stared off into the nothingness beyond, face twisted in horror, a firsthand witness to his final moments.

Rage flooded Megan's mind, crushing the fear and horror that welled within. The notion that this soldier, this _boy's,_ life had been wasted, cast aside like it was nothing was unforgivable! Her muscles twitched angrily, like a bull straining the chains that bound it, wanting not to impart knowledge but pain. She wanted to find the monster who did this and hurt him. Hurt him like he hurt this boy before her. Even as adrenaline coursed through her veins like wildfire, her grandfather's words tempered the blaze: _an eye for an eye makes the world blind_. Taking a moment to compose herself, the red in her vision began to fade. What could she do against trained fighters with guns? She was not suited for combat, but the classroom. This was not her fight. A plan of attack just became a plan of survival. Sticking her head out as far as she dared, Megan observed her surroundings with a sense of horrified awe. Bodies lay in the streets, warm blood pouring from open wounds. Both sides were still heavily engaged, their weapons and their focus pointed elsewhere. Spotting a blown-out building across the street, a plan slowly formed in her mind. It was rash and stupid, but the longer she remained in her spot the more likely she was to be discovered or accidently killed, neither of which appealed to her. Pulling herself out from under the mangled metal, she remained in a crouch, gathering her courage. Taking a few deep breaths through her nose, she eyed her goal, blue eyes flashing with determination. _I can do this! It's just like track…with bullets._ Odd, the thoughts that pass through one's mind in high-stress situations.

During a lull in the firefight, Megan shot off like a MAC, her feet pounding across the pavement as fast as her muscles could carry her. Shouts of surprise and alarm sprang from the shadows, but she didn't slow at all, even as warm blood splashed up her legs. If anything, the woman seemed to pick up speed as bullets ate at the pavement like ravenous dogs. The night air felt like ice against her skin, a million needles poking and prodding her as if she was some specimen to be dissected. Pushing the uncomfortable feeling aside, she filled her lungs to the brim with the frosty oxygen, using its plunging temperature to keep herself alert and her respiratory tract functioning. Brick, steel and glass passed in a blur as she raced through the streets, eager to put as much distance between her and any pursuers as possible. But her luck couldn't hold out forever. One of the AV-49 Wasps, a close air support VTOL, had broken off from its twin to hunt her down. And the pilot was in no mood to reason, a testament supported by its twin autocannons unleashing long bursts of lead rain. Her only saving grace was that the residential area was filled with tight corners and narrow alleys, making the pilot's hunt much more difficult. Frustrated, the pilot switched to their rocket launchers, opting to turn the entire block into a funeral pyre, like an angry deity would strike down a blasphemer.

The teacher didn't know she still had enough air to scream as the first pair of rockets detonated behind her, encompassing the entire domicile in an all-consuming hellfire. Vicious flames licked at her back, eager to devour, to feed on her flesh. Sweat clung to her body like a second skin, stinging her eyes and coating her lips. Her lungs pleaded, screamed for her to stop, to rest. But to do so now would mean certain death. First, she had to escape this death machine, an idea she didn't quite know how to turn into reality. A second pair of missiles screamed over her head, the twin explosions bringing down a small office building, blocking any further progress that way. _Crap!_ She stumbled as she cornered at full tilt, catching herself before going head over heels into the burning wreckage. The near-constant barrage of autocannon fire forced her to keep her head down while the rockets fueled the ever-growing presence of fire and smoke that threatened to choke out whatever precious air remained. Megan paled at the realization: the pilot didn't have to kill her outright, just box her in until she asphyxiated. The Wasp was no angry god; it was a cat, delighting itself by playing with its terrified prey before it inevitably devoured it. The mere thought churned her stomach. She may have been scared out of her wits but she was not about to be a pawn in anyone's game.

Ignoring a third set of rockets, she took a sudden turn, one that hopefully would take her out of the maze of glass and steel that threatened to become her tomb. She had been running almost nonstop for ten minutes and her lungs were dying for air. The hot, smoke-infused oxygen she had been gulping down was addling her mind, slowing her reactions as it burned its way down her throat. As such, she couldn't stop herself from slamming into the metal, throwing her to the ground as it reverberated like a beacon. Her vision began to blur as her brain struggled for the oxygen it needed to survive. _No…not like this…_ Megan didn't have long. Soon, she would fall unconscious from lack of air. From there the fire and smoke would do the rest, erasing her from memory. _Just like that young man…_ Memories flashed by, monumental events in her life but mere pinpricks in the great tapestry that is human history. In time, even her deeds would fade, sink to the bottom as other events took their place. Life would go on, as it always had, as it always would.

The Spartans. They were Humanity's last line of defense, overcoming odds, even when everyone else had lost hope. Though she didn't know them, she owed her life to them. Without these super soldiers, Humanity would have lost the war, exterminated by the genocidal Covenant hierarchy. That was a lie. She _did_ know one Spartan.

"Linda…" She rasped out, throat raw from smoke and overexertion. Linda was a Spartan, gave every task her all. It would be an insult to her friend if Megan didn't put forth the same effort. Squeezing her eyes shut to push out the lingering tears and sweat, she rolled onto her stomach. The smoke stung her eyes and the embers singed her sinuses, but with a monumental effort, pushed it down. It was the only way she would survive. Vaguely, she heard the aircraft buzzing overhead, ready to unleash another deadly payload. _One problem at a time, Megan._ Digging her nails into a small flowerbed beside her, she clawed her way back on to her feet. Grimacing in pain, she staggered from one building to the next, head spinning all the while. Each step was absolute hell, but eventually she emerged from her prison, the night air cooling the fresh blisters on her skin. Megan cracked a small smile, even as the hauntingly familiar _whoosh_ of the fusion thrusters grew closer. Maybe there was a guardian angel looking over her shoulder.

She didn't move as the Wasp vectored into position. She had nothing left to give. It wasn't fair, but such was life. Sometimes you won and sometimes you didn't. The VTOL hovered there, as if uncertain if she was going to escape back into the burning maze of metal and glass behind her. On cue, her legs gave out, and she collapsed to her knees as they could no longer support her body. The Wasp circled a few times, like a bully would taunt their imminent victim, as if determining the best way to end her. It was frustrating, agonizing.

"Just…do…it!" She wheezed out between gasps for air, glaring defiantly at the aircraft whenever it swooped into her vision. Suddenly, its entire body lit up in a shimmering, golden glow. The AV-49 stopped, just a perplexed as she was. Not a moment later, it glowed even brighter as its shields absorbed a second round. Its thrusters glowed brightly, forcing Megan to shield her eyes, as the craft turned and climbed as fast as possible. Awe filled the teacher's chest as events unfolded faster than her weakened state could keep up with. One second, that damned machine that had nearly killed her was flying away as quickly as its little tailfins could carry it. The golden outline surrounding it disappeared, where it wobbled uncontrollably for an instant before falling end-over-end until it slammed into a skyrise. The resulting explosion was, dare she say it, beautiful. The adrenaline had kept more than her legs going. It kept the contents of her stomach down. Megan heaved, the contents of the last few days coming up in a sloppy, soupy, tan mess that splattered her arms and abdomen. She took a few calming breaths, dreading her lack of water. Considering what she had just been through, water was the least of her problems. Her stomach continued to squeeze her for all she was worth as the day's events finally caught up to her. By the end, she had a pretty sizable puddle at her feet. _Gross._ She tried to stand, at least put some distance between her and the disgusting slop but found she didn't have the strength to move. In the end she passed out where she was, fires crackling melodically around her.

There indeed _was_ an angel watching over her.

 **Humanity Mall, Tribute**

 **2000 hours**

The four remaining Spartans moved swiftly through the hollow streets, their bulky MJOLNIR armor naught but a whisper as they swam in the shadows. Linda was nowhere to be found, electing to hold up in a rooftop suite with plenty of rations and enough ammunition to down a small corvette. As Blue Team's resident sniper, the redhead knew the SRS better than anyone. Chief would even put money down that she could show the manufacturers a thing or two she picked up over her years operating in the field.

" _Assist if possible, but don't telegraph your presence._ " John's voice rumbled through TEAMCOM.

" _Affirmative."_ Linda responded succinctly.

" _Chief,"_ Kelly said, jumping into the conversation. " _I love sightseeing as much as the next girl but wandering aimlessly through the streets is not my idea of fun."_ Several bursts of rifle fire cut through whatever words were on the scout's tongue, silencing any further conversation. John looked behind him, tilting his visor as if to say _anything else you want to say?_ Embarrassed, Kelly kept her mouth shut.

" _Engage active camouflage. Hold fire until we receive positive confirmation of URF forces."_ Three acknowledgement lights winked on his HUD, confirming his orders. The stealth systems engaged, adapting to the surrounding background and accounting for movement, allowing the UNSC super soldiers to fade from view in a few short moments. While previous editions were rudimentary, understanding of Covenant and Forerunner technologies vastly improved the viability and duration. It practically made anyone wearing it completely undetectable to visible detection. But that didn't mean the module was infallible. If used for too long they could overheat and fail, extremely unfortunate if caught in the middle of a firefight. Not to forget the fact they would show up like miniature suns for any idiot with a thermal scope. Pointing to the scout, he signaled Kelly to take point.

Sandra was crouched behind an overturned trashcan, the scope of her battle rifle centered on the head of a trooper. It wasn't often she got to sit back and just _watch_ an engagement unfold before her. It was serene, in a sort of detached, odd way. But the blonde was never one for sitting on her butt when she could help someone. She just didn't know who to help and who head she needed to fill with lethal brass. It was frustrating! _Come on bunny, hurry up!_ Directly or not, these monsters had a hand in placing her daughter and she wanted to get even.

"Relax." Fred whispered beside her. "Your shaking my shot." Sandra frowned behind her visor, though she didn't quite know where her hostility came from.

"Just want to help, Lieutenant."

"Amber is fine. Now, stop with the leg twitching." Sandra fell completely still, stunned. Was she that easy to read? Letting out a deep breath through her nose, she took a few moments to center herself. _Focus on the mission._ As much as she hated that mantra sometimes, a reminder of its importance seemed pertinent. Fate smiled upon her patience and decided to reward them, throwing up a handful of IFF tags.

" _Friendlies are lit, Chief."_ Kelly's voice broke through the silence of their TEAMCOM. Apparently, the Spartans had come up behind the enemy. Perfect. Things were about to get interesting.

" _Copy. Assist but remain silent. We need to keep our presence minimal for now."_ Four green acknowledgement lightswinked in his HUD as Blue Team enclosed upon the unsuspecting soldiers. The muffled bursts from their rifles tore into their mismatched armor with ruthless efficiency, shredding vital internal organs and spraying the walls red with blood. Caught completely off guard, the remaining soldiers whirled around and fired into the darkness behind them, suddenly having to fight on two fronts. Invisible to the naked eye, Kelly leapt into the growing chaos, eyeing her first target. She was on him in an instant, ripping the weapon from his hands, driving the butt of it into his helmet hard enough to crack it like an egg. The man was out before his brain could register the pain of his broken fingers. Pivoting on her heel, the scout pulled the magnum from her belt and shot two of them in the head, splattering blood and brain matter all over their fellow soldiers.

"What the f-" The woman's cry of alarm was silenced as a three-round burst caught her in the throat, giving the Front soldier a new blowhole. Any further comments came out as choked, wet gurgles as she slumped to her knees, clutching her throat. Her agony was short lived as another burst caught her in the back of the head, shoving her body to the dirt and adding her blood to the growing pool.

Taking advantage of the distraction, Kelly sidestepped a shotgun that was set to plaster her. While a weapon was dangerous in anyone's hands, the URF's lack of discipline was playing to their favor. Sliding her combat knife from its sheathe, the scout jammed the high carbon steel blade between their ribs. The wounded rebel could only whimper as his lungs slowly filled with blood. A shimmer of gold was the last thing he saw before the light left his eyes and Death took the young soul under his tattered wing. Working with the remaining militia, Blue Team quickly mopped up the few still standing. Blood and plasma settled within the grooves of their boots, a fluid reminder of what transpired here today. Her motion tracker picked up friendly contacts moving on her position. No enemy IFF's remained.

"We're clear, Chief." She reported, eyeing the approaching Tribute militia. They looked virtually dead on their feet, likely never having seen combat outside the occasional bar brawl or unruly protest, until today. But at least they were breathing, which was more than she could say for the bodies clustered around her. They peered around in the darkness, squinting to try to make out her silhouette.

" _Understood."_ He responded, stepping up beside her and deactivating his active camo unit, revealing his olive, heavily armored frame to the Tribute troopers. The rest of Blue Team quickly followed John's lead, intentionally painting themselves as important targets.

"Holy shit, Spartans. _Real_ Spartans!" The young man gawked openly as he stared at the soldiers towering over him.

"No way…"

"They cut through them Innies like it was nothin'!"

"Damn…" Another one muttered. Kelly shifted uneasily underneath the spotlight. She, like her brothers and sisters, never liked the attention or godlike status bestowed upon them by others. She was just a solider, following orders and completing her mission. _But I have more to protect now. I have my family._ And just like flipping a switch, her frown disappeared entirely, replaced by a small smile that refused to fade.

"Not to sound ungrateful, but what are Spartans doing here?" Asked the leader of their little band. His confusion was understandable. It wasn't everyday someone passed a Spartan on the street. And to his knowledge, Tribute had no Spartans, operational or otherwise.

"We received your distress call and are here to provide any assistance. Are you the commanding officer?" Chief's question took the man by surprise, as if he believed Spartans didn't do anything as menial as 'provide assistance', not when there were still monsters hiding deep in the Milky Way's closets. But he wasn't stupid enough to look a gift horse in the mouth.

He shook his head sadly. "As you could probably tell, things aren't looking so hot for us right now. Our commander is in a nearby hospital. We are using it as a temporary HQ. She'll probably have intel, along with whatever else you need." Casting one last glance down the street, he waved the four Spartans on, eager to get out of the open. Ignoring the warmth still radiating from corpses around them, Blue Team once more faded from view, as if they never existed in the first place. They glanced around, confused by the sudden lack of bodies. Sandra quickly pointed out that they were still there, just that it was better for both groups if they stayed out of sight. Because as the saying goes: out of sight, out of mind. And the last thing Blue Team wanted was to be discovered before the _Infinity_ could deploy its reinforcements. If that happened they would _really_ be screwed. With that hurdle cleared, the troops led the way down the dark, abandoned streets, the Spartans ghosting after them like angels of Death.

 **Tribute Militia Temporary Headquarters, Humanity Mall, Tribute**

 **2020 hours**

Megan groggily opened her eyes, the sounds of her surroundings slowly filtering through her senses. Dull, indistinct conversations floated around her like a heavy cloud, preventing her from understanding a single word. She tried to sit up, but instantly regretted it as her head began to swim, threatening to erase the trivial amount of progress she had made and send her reeling back into the land of the unconscious.

A hand pushed her gently but insistently back down. "Woah! Easy there, mate." The voice sent pulses of relief through her, like waves cresting onto the shore. She was alive. But the last thing she remembered was passing out cold on a back street. _How did I end up here?_

"One of the other patrols brought you in." He answered, seeing the confusion plastered on the woman's face. "You're a lot stronger than I thought. Most of us thought you weren't going to make it." Megan frowned, the inadvertent barb digging into her pride. She wasn't a soldier. It wasn't fair to hold her to a set of standards that were so far above her own! Grinding her palms into her eyes, Megan crushed the last vestiges of disorientation that brushed up against the edges of her vision. Slowly scanning the room, her brain concluded that she was in a large lobby of some form, most likely a hospital or office building. The room was dark, heavy with dust and despair. Bright spotlights rose like pillars over the area, throwing just as much shadow as it did light. What she could see was not a welcoming sight. Frightened families who jumped at every shadow. Anxious, distrustful eyes darted from person to person, sizing them up, trying to determine if they were a threat…or a target. And watching over it all, a handful of militia, some of which seemed to have difficulties handling their own weapons. A perfect reflection of the situation. It was like looking in a mirror. And that mirror was terrifying. _The calm before the storm._

The man spoke once more, pulling her gaze from the people gathered around her. "Looks pretty bad, right?" Something about the man struck her as odd. She gave him a quick once over. Young, rugged, and seemed to carry a spark of inexhaustible energy. His black and gold uniform carried the crest of the Tribute Militia: an assault rifle and cross wrenches superimposed on a set of eagle wings. _C. Dubbo_ was stenciled across his right breast. Come to think of it, his accent was pretty noticeable.

"Your accent, it's quite familiar. Madagascar?"

The soldier gave her a knowing smile. "It's Australian, actually." They shared a brief chuckle before a shout drew their attention across the room. A grizzled looking woman was glaring in Dubbo's direction with a look that could pierce through reinforced titanium like it was paper. Megan heard the thick gulp of air as it traveled down his throat; the woman looked ready so strangle someone. She couldn't blame him as a spike of fear rippled down her own spinal vertebrae.

"Good luck." She whispered, not taking her eyes off the woman for a second.

"Guess my ass-kicking adventures in space will have to wait for another day." He gave her one more once over before walking towards the woman who would become his doom, whistling all the way. _Glad he can seem happy about being chewed out._ Finally having a moment to herself, she took stock of her appearance. While not entirely vain, beauty was still important to her. The clothes she had stolen were soaked in sweat, vomit and god-knows what else. The dirt and other airborne particles had clung to her sweat-soaked skin, forming a dry, grimy layer on her skin that happened to be irritable and unpleasant at the same time. _Ugh. How disgusting_. While her little diva ranted and raved, demanding a shower and a mani pedi, Megan knew that was impossible thing to ask. It would be selfish to put her needs above others, especially when some of them were in much more dire shape than she was. A wet towel would suit her needs for now. Eventually, the miniature brat that dwelled within got the message and quieted down.

* * *

Sandra drummed her fingers lightly on her rifle, utterly bored. _If I knew I was going to be sitting around for so long, I would have brought a book._ Sergeant Mathers, the woman in charge of the operations in this sector of the mall, was on top of things. Even with the greying hair, she worked her people like a seasoned drill instructor and they knew it, following her orders without complaint. According to their intel, the URF had set up patrols and checkpoints, flooding the city with bodies and mobile armor. Chief originally wanted to push through, gather all they could so the _Infinity_ and the rest of the incoming fleet would know what they were walking into. Mathers had wisely pointed out walking headlong into _that_ much armor was suicide, even for a veteran Spartan with active camouflage. So, a compromise was struck: Blue Team would gain access to the militia's armory and intelligence network but would help Mathers rescue civilians and route the URF from her sector until the UNSC arrived to offer its assistance.

 _I don't see the point, as those were our orders to begin with!_ Grumbling under her breath, the purple Spartan slipped out of the conference room. The meeting had come to a close anyway, Mathers was just talking semantics with her people at this point.

Chief's voice rumbled in her ear. " _We move out the moment that new intel arrives."_ They must have finally come to a decision. _Bureaucracy_. A frustratingly stupid, but ultimately necessary part of planning. Even during times of war. It's what kept the supply ships filled and the assembly plants running hotas the Covenant hammered on their door. Still, just because it was necessary didn't mean she had to like it.

"Understood, Chief." She automatically responded over TEAMCOM. Hundreds of souls stared back at her, all different, but all equally afraid. A flash of heat washed over her, leaving her in an uncomfortable cocoon of humidity, temperature-regulating skin suit be damned. They were all counting on her, weather they admitted it or not. She glanced over her shoulder at the sound of a familiar gait. Her love came to a stop beside her, surveying the crowd with an experienced eye behind her opaque visor. She found her gaze naturally gravitating towards the families with children, her heartstrings tugging painfully at their plight.

" _Is it just me or have you been particularly…annoyed as of late_?" Kelly asked over their private channel.

"I've always hated bureaucracy." Sandra huffed, distasteful undertones clear in her voice.

" _You do realize that the UNSC is built on it? They are inseparable_." Kelly joked. Sandra rolled her eyes behind her visor but said nothing. Refugees and citizens milled about the lobby, their conversations becoming indecipherable in the cyclone of noise that encompassed the glass and metal atrium.

"This is a hospital, right?" Kelly gave a slight inclination of her helmet, the only outward sign the veteran had even registered the woman's words. _Pause for effect and…_ "Want to find a bed and 'go loud'?"

" _ **Sandra!**_ " Kelly hissed, practically scrambling to catch _Oathsworn_ over the blonde's peals of laughter. Embarrassment lit up her pale features as a familiar heat crept down towards her core. _Belay that! Remain on-mission, that's an order!_ But the only thing her brain did better than following orders was ignoring them, especially when offered the juiciest of all the nectars: sexual intimacy.

"What?! I'm bored and we have time to burn!"

" _That is not an acceptable suggestion!_ " Kelly fired back, flustered. She was amazed how her lover could constantly catch her off guard like this. The veteran may have learned much under the blonde's tutelage, but she was still dealing with a master. _Yes, it is,_ her core purred. _It's purrrrrfectly reasonable._

 _Prepare._ Oh, she was already well on her way.

 _Indulge._ No. Stop that. The mission comes first.

 _Releassse…_ Annnnd now she needed a cold shower.

Kelly opened her mouth to give the shorter woman a serious tongue lashing but the approach of another woman halted the words in her throat. This newcomer wove her way between the throngs of people, the nervousness only outshined by the blue hair that seemed to glitter despite the poor lighting. Though it was both her duty and her mission to help those in need, the constant clenching and unclenching of her lower musculature told her she was not helping _anyone_.

" _Be careful of what you wish for, Spartan Wolfe, for it just may come true._ " Kelly teased seductively before fading into the shadows to think unsexy thoughts.

"Um, e-excuse me S-spartan?" The woman asked uncertainly, clearly awed by the soldier in front of her. Sandra had to look down to meet the woman's eyes. Whoever this person was, she hid her discomfort remarkably well. Most people found talking to a faceless hulking mass of armor unnerving. Kind of hard to have a decent conversation when your talking to a biological equivalent of a brick wall.

"How can we-I help, ma'am?" Sandra tossed a glare behind her, mildly resentful her partner abandoned her. _Though I probably deserve it._

"My name is Megan, Megan Dikos. Is there someplace we could talk?" The woman, Megan, said, sticking out her hand to shake. The blonde raised a brow in surprise. _Talk about breaking stereotypes_.

"Sandra Wolfe." Accepting the woman's hand, taking great care not to crush the aquamarine's bones like a bag of chips. "Follow me, please." A quick glance to make sure everything wouldn't fall into chaos the minute she turned her back, Sandra led two of them into a nearby alcove. The shadows would mask their expressions and the cacophony of noise would drown out their own conversation. Chief would need her soon but until then she would help these people in any way she could.

 **Come Back Next Time!**

Hope you enjoyed this chapter, I know I loved writing it! On to the next one. Hopefully, life doesn't get in the way _too_ much this time… fingers crossed! Please favorite, follow and review! See you planet side next time as the _Infinity_ comes to the aid of Blue Team and the citizens of Tribute!


	14. Storm Surge

**The Rabbit and the Wolfe**

Hello again and welcome back to the next installment in the RW series! When we last left off, our heroes had slipped through the blockade guarding Tribute and began causing havoc, all sneaky like. Well, friends, that is about to change! With the arrival of UNSC reinforcements this battle is going to really heat up! But what about Megan, Kevin and the rest of the civilians caught in the bloody crossfire? I guess you'll just have to read and find out for yourself. Enjoy and don't forget to favorite, follow and review!

 **14: Storm Surge**

 **December 21, 2561**

 **Sector 12, Humanity Mall, Tribute**

 **Epsilon Eridani System**

 **0800 hours**

Deep blues and purples hung over the city like a blanket, casting shadows over towering skyscrapers and residences alike. Though they were dark, they lacked the oppressive and haunting feeling the black of night seemed to produce in its wake. As the minutes ticked by, the sun began to break over the Tribute's horizon, throwing soft oranges onto the canvas of the atmosphere. Like a paintbrush, the air currents swirled the clouds and colors together, culminating in a breathtaking, picturesque sunrise to remember. But if one pulled back the veil of beauty, they would see the rotting, pestilent corpse of a city torn apart by war. Gutted skyscrapers jutted unevenly out of the ground, their twisted spires forever scarring the beautiful skyline. Smoke rose from collapsed buildings, as these once magnificent architectural jewels were reduced to nothing more than broken concrete and shattered glass.

High up in her rooftop perch, Linda could see past the ruined city and into the heavens. The gentleness of the sunset sent a wave of nostalgia up her spine. It reminded her of her earliest days of training on Reach, long before it was glassed by the Covenant. Back then, it was just her and the other SPARTAN-II trainees against the world. Or at least the next objective Mendez threw their way. Though they were soldiers, Humanity had yet to stumble across the proud Sangheili and the vicious Jiralhanae, which would spark a conflict that would consume the next thirty years of their lives. Many of the SPARTAN-II's never saw the end of the war, willingly paying the ultimate sacrifice so that others could live. Out of the original thirty or so that survived augmentations, only a handful or two remained. Embroiled in their own assignments, the sniper had not seen many of them in years, decades even. Though it wasn't like they could just drop what they were doing to enjoy a reunion at a little coffee shop on Earth: they were spread out across the Milky Way, separated by hundreds, even thousands, of light years.

The redhead let out a frustrated growl as she watched another one of her precisely fabricated suppressor assemblies warp itself into a useless hunk of metal. Ignoring the rebel splayed out on the street with a fist-sized hole in his chest, she cast a glance towards her supplies. _Dammit. Only one left._ A small engineering marvel of her own making, the veteran was able to integrate a suppressor into the barrel of her SRS-99, reducing the harsh, recognizable, _crack_ of the rifle to a decibel level much more suited for stealth operations. The problem was that this assembly generated significantly more heat at the barrel exit due to the altered distribution of the weapon's gases. She slid away from her vantage point, already removing the damaged components. The good news was that with the amount of ammunition she had stuffed into her pod, the sniper could hold this street for days. However, without the suppressors she would become a very loud, very _obvious,_ target. She would have to go mobile soon.

It was the quiet she liked the least, for it allowed her time to think. For the harmony and focus she harnessed on the battlefield to waiver, to drift towards topics she was unable, or unwilling, to face. That simple fact alone shoved a spike of calm frustration through the sniper. _Just mission stress, nothing more_. She told herself. But why was this mission in particular so distressing? What made it different from the hundreds of other missions she had completed in the past? It was certainly not the most difficult, logistically or otherwise. During the war, Linda had undertaken numerous solo deployments behind enemy lines without breaking a sweat. was it perhaps because she was killing her fellow humans, some of which she may have even fought beside years prior? She shook her head, dismissing the thought entirely. No, they were the enemy and she had her orders. And the sniper always followed orders, that's what made her such an excellent Spartan. But like an itch that wouldn't go away, something tugged at the back of her mind, telling her this mission was different.

She shook her head vigorously, determined to push these unbidden thoughts completely from her mind. She could deal with them when she had the time to spare. _Focus on the mission. Everything else is secondary._ Slapping a fresh magazine into her rifle, she crawled back to her vantage point, dragging a nearby poncho over her armored frame to better hide her profile. Yes, she could have used her active camouflage, but didn't want to risk being spotted. Leveling her rifle down towards the street below, the red head spotted a dozen or so targets moving in a loose formation. She took them in at a glance: the mismatched armor, lack of any insignia and presence of heavy weapons only pointed to one possible conclusion- Front soldiers. Based upon the fact that they walked out in the open like they owned the place, they were either overconfident or green. Both of those were a guaranteed death sentence in the scope of an experienced sniper. And Linda was a _master_.

Zeroing in on the farthest soldier, Linda felt the familiar rifle rock rhythmically into her shoulder as the man's brains splattered on the street. Shifting her reticle to the next one in line, she pulled the trigger a second time, watching their body crumple into a lifeless heap as the 14.5x114mm round easily punched through the second trooper's skull. Two more met similar fates, one through lead-induced cardiac arrest and the fourth found a new hole in his throat to breathe through. Swiftly reloading and cycling the bolt to chamber the first round, Linda was able to down two more rebel troops before things went south. One of the lead soldiers glanced back, only to be met with the terrifying sight of half of his squad lying in pools of their own blood. The rest of them scattered to find cover, much to Linda's annoyance. She bided her time, her slow, even breaths and steady heartbeat kept her in a clear state of mind, much like Kelly's Zen 'no thought' practices. _Just a little further…_

Like a herald of Death, the muted _crack_ of her rifle signaled the demise of another soul. The brass lance entered through the soldier's spine, throwing fragments of bone into their organs before blowing its way out through their chest, splashing his nearby compatriots in tissue and gore. He was dead before his before his body hit the pavement. Linda mechanically picked off the rest of the squad, every round finding their target and once more cementing her artistry with an SRS-99 S5 AM. The final corpse had not yet cooled when a tremendous explosion tore through the relative silence, rattling the windows of her perch. Rolling over onto her back, her helmet's visor automatically darkened to compensate for the intense light. _Those must be the reinforcements_ , she mused. Smaller orange dots quickly saturated the atmosphere as fighter craft tore into each other with heavy rounds and missiles. With the arrival of UNSC reinforcements, they actually stood a chance of ripping Tribute away from the Front. With that sliver of good news lingering in the back of her mind, Linda rolled back over, nestling in behind her rifle. Help may be here, but this battle was a long way from being over. Time to get to work.

 **Sector 15, Humanity Mall, Tribute**

 **0810 hours**

Informally referred to as the Garden District, sector 15 roughly resembled an equilateral triangle, if said triangle was three kilometers long on each side and filled with hundreds of hostiles. Fauna and flowers of all species shot out from the center of the sector, blanketing over three million square meters in green and dozens of vibrant colors. All in all, Sandra thought the area was extraordinarily beautiful. Sergeant Mathers had tasked Blue team with clearing sectors one through fifteen, while her units would take sixteen through thirty. _Not too bad,_ she initially thought. This was before the Spartans learned that there were over sixty sectors in the southwestern quadrant _alone_. She hadn't brought nearly enough ammo for this kind of engagement. A problem easily rectified by battlefield scavenging: the dead had no use for such things. The second story window gave her an excellent vantage point to their target across the cobblestone path. Thought the sight that greeted her was anything by friendly. A squad of rebels had taken civilians captive in an effort to draw out their foes.

Tapping into SQUADCOM, she broadcast her thoughts about the structure she was sent to scout out. "Lieutenant, you're going to want to see this." Fred joined her moments later, quiet as a mouse, despite the half ton of armor that encased him. "Look." She said, jerking her head towards the window.

"Spartan, you didn't need to call me up here for a simple…" The rest of his sentence died on his tongue as a ball of rage ignited in his heart. He spotted directional explosives in several doorways, only illuminated by his HUD. They were operating in a close-quarters urban environment. It was only a matter of time before the enemy began planting explosives in ambush. Honestly, he was surprised it took them this long to employ it. No, his anger came from something much more barbaric and cowardly. Adjoining the main maintenance building via a short stone path was a small groundskeeping cabin with large floor-to-ceiling windows, offering Fred an unobstructed view of the miniature vestibule. His visor highlighted multiple explosive signatures inside, right next to a handful of captured civilians. If they stormed that complex civilian casualties would be high. And that was _unacceptable_. The Front must really be desperate if they stooped to such actions. Unable to stomach the thought any longer, he looked away.

"I'm with you. One hundred and ten percent." Sandra reassured him calmly. Though largely unwarranted, the sentiment was appreciated. But they had orders. Giving her a quick nod, he led the way back to the rest of the squad holed up on the floor below. While they were no ODST's, the half dozen or so Tribute militia soldiers selected to accompany the pair of Spartans were fairly effective. They followed orders, could hold their own in a firefight and most importantly, had the respect and trust of the populace. Fred had to hand it to Mathers, the woman knew how to pick her people. All of them perked up when the two Spartans entered the room.

"Sir?" one of the troopers asked. A short, petite woman who looked to be in her late twenties, raven locks hidden beneath her helmet. Not a look typically associated with a soldier but Fred had long ago stopped making assumptions on looks alone. It had happened to the SPARTAN-II's more times than he could count during the early years of the Human-Covenant war. He knew what unappreciation could do to a unit, and he was not keen allowing anyone else to suffer a similar fate.

Fred quickly outlined the plan to his unit. It was risky, but if they pulled it off, not only could they safely evacuate the civilians, but strike another blow to the Front presence on this planet. A win-win in his book. "Any questions?" He asked, studying each soldier behind his visor. When none came, he unclamped the battle rifle from his back, allowing the weapon to settle familiarly in his grip. "Let's get those civvies out of there." Receiving a handful of nods and an acknowledgment light from Sandra, his team moved into position.

* * *

Sandra pressed herself against one of the few large oak trees that surrounded the cluster of buildings, her active camouflage in full swing. Taking a good look to make sure none of the rebels were looking in their direction, she motioned the two militia soldiers with her to move up. They sprinted to the small shed ahead of her, following her orders to stay low and move fast. If any of them were spotted, this op would go south. Like dig to China, South. Stowing their handheld thermal cameras in a pouch attached to their armor, one of them gave her a nod. Giving the main building one last glance, she darted across the pristine lawn, leaving numerous pulverized flowerbeds in her wake. She hit the wall harder than she meant to, a dull _thud_ echoing out into the meadows beyond. She mentally cringed as one of the militia practically wilted in fear, the second one casting a nervous peek around the corner. Call it mercy, call it coincidence, hell, call it pure dumb luck; somehow her mistake went unnoticed by the soldiers in the neighboring building.

Her status light winked green once- signaling the others that they were in position and ready to begin. After a few seconds Fred's status light blinked rapidly, their greenlight to begin. Decloaking, she turned to the smaller of the two. "Let them know were here. _Quietly._ " The woman gave her a firm nod and went about her task. The Spartan's ears perked up at a quiet rustling. Turning her head around, Sandra spotted the other militia member pulling C-12 from a satchel hanging from his armor. A four-inch cube of this stuff was enough to level a five-story building! Her HUD displayed his name: PRIVATE PLUNKIN, ABRAHAM. Tribute Defense Militia (TDM). Private Plunkin was obviously green as freshly mowed grass, this likely being his first assignment right after completing his training. And it took her all but two seconds to realize he did not know what he was doing, a lethal combination. The _last_ thing she wanted was to be blown sky-high by some greenhorn haphazardly handling explosives.

"That doesn't look very stealthy to me, Private." She voiced aloud, thankfully drawing his attention away from the volatile composite.

"Put that back, you idiot! Are you _trying_ to get us all killed!?" His comrade harshly whispered from her position on the other side of Sandra.

"This is cutting clay, right?" He was of course referring to the lower-yield explosive, made for breaching walls.

"No. _That_ is C-12." Sandra couldn't squander the blip of satisfaction she felt as the color completely drained from Plunkin's face. Better he learns now than blow himself up by accident later. "At any rate, we can't risk a chain detonation." She continued, ignoring him as he fumbled to repack the explosives as frantically as he could.

"If we can't blow it open, what's our play? I doubt they will just let us walk around and unlock the front door." She said skeptically, wiping away some of the sweat from her eyes with the back of her glove. Well, if they couldn't take out the wall, and the front door was a wash, they would just have to make a new door. Patting her hilts a few times to reassure herself, she quickly glanced at the name on her HUD before she offered a response.

"We cut ourselves a new door, Private Hathora." Admittingly, her response was not well received, based upon the incredulous looks the two Tribute Militia troops gave her.

"What?"

"Ma'am?"

Rather than waste time explaining it to them, she motioned for them to give her some distance. They took up a new position behind a hedge a few feet away. Not the best cover if the bullets started flying, but they were a little pressed for time. The quicker they evacuated these civilians; the quicker Fred and the other militia troopers could engage. Moving to the spot that Hathora occupied moments ago, she spotted the small hole that had been cut into the glass. Keying her external speakers, she addressed the civilians.

"This is Spartan Wolfe, UNSC. Is everyone alright?"

"Where is the other woman?" A man demanded, suspicion clear in his voice.

"She's watching my back."

"Then have her speak with us."

"I'm afraid that not possible at this time." Sandra stated.

"Liar!" A woman yelled from somewhere within the cabin.

"How do we know you're not some terrorist ploy?" Another interjected.

"How can we trust you?" Sandra felt a spike of anger rise up her spine. She understood their hesitation, she would probably feel the same way if in a similar situation. Statistically speaking, the longer they remained out here, the greater chance of being discovered. Time was not on their side and Sandra was not about to push her luck.

"You'll just have to take my word for it." Hushed conversations broke out inside the shack, digesting her words. She couldn't believe it! They were literally sitting on a bomb and they wanted to _talk_ about the potential legitimacy of a rescue attempt?! And like a bolt of lightning in a rain storm it came to her. She was going about this the wrong way. They didn't need to trust her. Fear was often a great motivator, a lesson she had learned well. Without waiting for a response, she began her lie. "What your standing on is a C-7 anti-personnel mine. The blast is not directed outward in a sphere, like in a normal bomb. Instead, when activated, it explodes horizontally. That means all the shrapnel and other nasty things the Innies put in there will rip the feet from your legs, rendering every single one of you immobile." There was silence in the cabin as they digested her words. Well, at least she had their attention.

"It-it couldn't hit all of us, right? Some of us would survive I-"

"Have you ever been next to a bomb when it went off?" She snapped, her irritation beginning to get the better of her. Memories of dodging volleys of plasma fire flashed through her mind, before she cast them aside with a shake of her head. Some memories were best left buried. "If you want to live through the rest of the day, move to the front door." There were a few moments of silence before the civilians shuffled closer to the door. Hoping the URF didn't see the movement and come to investigate, she took a step back, igniting her blades as she did. The shaped plasma crackled excitedly, as if sensing its wielder's intentions. With nary a twitch of her hands, she drove her blades deep into the polycrete. Though the stuff was extremely durable, its molecular structure made for poor protection, especially against explosives. The shaped plasma was like a hungry shark, eating through the wall like it was its last meal. In a few moments she had cut a jagged outline big enough for a Skirmisher to walk through. _Good enough._

Keying into SQUADCOM, Sandra passed off a quick warning to the rest of the team. "Get ready. We may have visitors." Green lights winked inside her helmet as Fred and the others acknowledged her message. Extinguishing her blades, Sandra curled her hand into a tight fist and slammed it into the wall. Chips flew in all directions as a web of cracks cascaded outward from the point of impact. She raised a brow in surprise, fully expecting the material to crumble under the force of the blow. Evidently polycrete had come a long way. Throwing that thought in the proverbial trash bin, she slammed her fist into the wall once more. Cracks exploded across its surface as it took another MJOLNIR force-multiplying blow. But, miraculously, still held together. Growling under her breath, she launched a third strike at the damn thing. This time her fist disappeared in puff of dust and concrete shards. Using the freshly made handhold, Sandra began to pull the slab from the wall. It wasn't exactly as quiet as she hoped as she listened to the polycrete grind against itself with all the subtlety of a Brute who stubbed his toe. With all the noise she was making it was just a matter of time until the other shoe dropped. Sandra just hoped she could get these civilians out before the poo hit the fan.

" _CONTACT!"_ She got her answer seconds later when Private Plunkin screamed over the coms before he let loose with his assault rifle, shredding whatever was beyond her vision with his MA37. Subtlety was _clearly_ no longer an option. Ignoring the soldier's obvious lack of restraint, Sandra pulled on the wall has hard as she could as more weapons fire burst from the building where the rest of the team had been waiting. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the two militia soldiers scramble for better cover as hot brass turned the bushes into confetti. Readjusting her grip, Sandra pulled on the polycrete with all her might. Beads of perspiration collected on her skin as the barrier slowly gave way. With a final grunt of exertion, the wall finally gave way, allowing the Spartan to stick her head into the improvised door.

They openly gaped at her, a mixture of shock, fear and awe implanted on their visage. Sandra hazarded a guess that none of them had ever seen a Spartan outside of promotional vids. But, to her rising frustration, not one of them moved, even as the bullets continued to fly. The URF soldiers seemed to pick up on the civilians' hesitation, one firing almost a full clip across the windows trying to eliminate their prisoners before they could escape. A single shot rang out and the soldier crumpled to the ground in a heap. "Move!" She shouted at them, not willing to push her severely exhausted luck quota for the day. To their credit, the group didn't panic, instead making a quick but calm beeline for the exit. Doing a quick headcount, her HUD tagged seventeen civilians. With only a half dozen TDM fighters and two Spartans, it was going to be tough escorting double that in noncoms. But tough was a Spartan's specialty.

"Sir, making our way to the fallback point, civilians in tow." Sandra reported, firing as she went. A burst from her battle rifle hit one of them in the throat, ripping his windpipe apart and spraying the wall behind him in a deep red. Using her bulk as a shield, she let her weapon bark like a rabid dog, forcing the rebels to either keep their heads down or be ruthlessly perforated by her BR's 9.5 x 40mm rounds.

" _Copy that."_ Came Fred's calm reply. " _On route now."_ On cue, a gout of flame launched out from one of the second-story windows, momentarily hiding the deadly payload as it screamed through the sky. The enemy scrambled for cover, but the effort was fruitless: the buildings were so close there was simply no time to react. The warhead slammed into the side of the maintenance building, making the foundation tremble under the immense stress. Like a dragon's maw, the fire cascaded outward devouring everything in its path. Two unlucky souls were close enough to be consumed by the blast, their screams of agony reached the heavens as they burned alive. Sandra felt her stomach churn and bile rise in the back of her throat. _What a horrible way to go,_ she thought. Sure, they were the enemy and they wanted her dead, but no one deserved to go out like that. A second rocket flew through the hole the first one made a detonated, throwing fire and debris into the air as the structure collapsed in upon itself.

She sighted a lone soldier limping away from the remains of the building. Blood oozed from a fresh gash above his eye, temporarily blinding him and discoloring his graying hair. Despite his injuries, however, Sandra could feel the hate and rage emanating from his one functional green eye as he stared her down. She swung her rifle to finish him off, only for her shields to flare intensely as her team was completely blindsided by a patrol. Plunkin went down instantly as multiple rounds chewed through his armor like wet tissue paper, splashing those nearest to him with blood and sinew. They were caught out in the open. If the civilians didn't find cover soon this firefight would become a bloodbath. Sandra was moving before his body even hit the ground.

"Go! Get behind those trees and stay low!" Using her height to her advantage, she rained down a lethal storm of white-hot lead over their heads. Shoving those nearest to her to the ground, she roughly made for the front of the group. They would have bruises but at least they would still be alive. Keeping an eye on her rapidly dwindling ammo count she keyed Fred in on the situation.

" _Copy that. We're moving to assist. Draw their fire and protect those civilians."_ Fred ordered.

"Argh, damn it!" Hathora yelled as she tumbled to the dirt. Scrambling behind a chewed-up tree stump, she fired her rifle blindly in the general direction of the oncoming troopers. "They shot me in the ass! Who the fuck shoots someone in the _ass_?!" Sandra suppressed the urge to smile. They could joke and laugh about it later, when the bullets weren't flying and Death wasn't hovering on the fringes of the battlefield. Her rifle clicked empty as the last three bursts from her magazine caught two of them in the chest, their corpses tumbling to the ground and tainting the manicured grass red. Activating her thrusters, she sprinted in a shallow curve towards the separatists at the opposite end of the clearing. Not her brightest idea ever, as her suit alerted her that shield strength was below half and dropping fast. But what better way to get the enemies' attention than a charging Spartan?

Ejecting her spent clip, Sandra yanked a plasma grenade off her belt, armed it, and let it fly. The blue orb glowed an alluring shade of blue, like a siren who used its song to lure men to the ocean depths. The orb detonated with brilliant flash, vaporizing the soldier it had adhered to and throwing the rest clear of the blast. Not one to waste her advantage, Sandra slammed into the biggest one head-on. She could hear his unaugmented bones snap and splinter like twigs as he was tackled to the ground by the equivalent of a small car. Using her momentum, she rolled to her feet, delivering a savage uppercut to another trooper's jaw. The force was enough to lift her a foot into the air. She couldn't even scream- her bones had literally been turned to paste. A wet gurgling sound was all she could muster before the shock took her out of the fight. Sandra's M20 took care the final two, the armor-piercing rounds tearing bloody, jagged scars across their torsos. Standing to her full height, she turned to look at her charges: bruised and shaken but ultimately no worse for wear. Fred and the remaining militia members were corralling the living and tending to the dead. Fred jerked his head, a gesture to _'come here'_. Sandra nodded at his unspoken command, taking the time to put a round into each soldier's skull for good measure before making her way back to the group.

Plunkin's death had been an atrocious waste. Sure, he couldn't tell the difference between C-12 and silly putty, but he was young and had so much left to live for. He would never have the chance to grow up, experience the trials and tribulations of the world. Maybe he had a significant other, maybe he didn't. She surmised it didn't really matter in the end. Time would go on. Days would turn to months. Those months would fade seamlessly into years. The universe would continue to grow, to flourish, just with one less spark of life. It was up to those who survived to carry on his memory. To wield it like a torch, let it guide other souls to a better life. Private Plunkin was the first man she had ever lost under her command and Sandra had a sinking feeling that it wouldn't be the last. So wrapped up in her ruminations that the over pressurization wave from the bombs stashed in the groundskeeper's cabin tore her feet from the earth and threw all 900-plus pounds of her into the air like a ragdoll.

 **Sector 25, Humanity Mall, Tribute**

 **0900 hours**

Pumping another shell into _Oathsworn_ , Kelly followed Chief through a gap in a row of market stalls. She frowned behind her polarized faceplate, scanning the numerous amounts of nooks and crannies, some of the shadows loomed large enough to conceal a Hunter. Her nerves had been on a hair trigger for hours now, in no small part due to the way this section had been laid out. If she ever found out who designed this section of the city, the veteran scout would quickly show them the error of their ways… with a bullet. Though most city planners don't take troop advancement during an invasion into account when they propose their ideas. _Fair point,_ her mind quipped. She would just have to settle for breaking their legs.

They dashed across the street and ducked into an alleyway, crushing pebbles and polycrete into powder underfoot. From the darkness of the alley, the two veterans were able to get an unimpeded look down the street. Several overturned Warthogs lay scattered about the street, their smoldering husks partially melted and completely unusable. Almost every surface was riddled with bullet holes, like the rivets on an aircraft during World War II. But for every bullet hole, there seemed to be two corpses to fill the void, like some cruel bargain, where human lives were used as payment. Who they were was impossible to determine, however, because their bodies were burnt beyond all recognition. A dense miasma of ash and charred flesh hung in the air like a grotesque reminder of the pain that had been wrought. The scout was glad her armor's filtration systems were still operational. The mere thought of choking down lungfuls of that polluted oxygen made her stomach turn.

" _Rally point Bravo is just ahead. Keep sharp."_ Chief said, motioning them forward with a short jerk of his head. The rally point was just a staging area, a designated point to rest, rearm and comb through any additional intelligence. From there, Blue Team would await UNSC reinforcements before pushing further into the city. It would no doubt turn into a bloody, prolonged engagement, one which the scout was prepared to win.

Kelly carefully stepped over a humanoid mass of charred flesh. She could see spears of bone sticking up through the blackened remains, like skeletal markers to identify those ready for Death's embrace. Even without any facial features or identifiers, the twisted positions of the sea of corpses told the story as clear as day. _What an agonizing way to go,_ she thought sadly. The duo pushed warily onward, fingers hovering over their triggers. Suspiciously eying the rising line of scorch marks on the buildings that lined their path, she keyed her mike.

"Those burn marks are rising, Chief." Hopefully, he didn't notice the small uptick in octave. Knowing him though, there was no way he couldn't.

"I noticed it too. NA4's, most likely. Unaugmented personnel couldn't reach that height with a 57." He was, of course referring to the M7057, the UNSC's lighter and more portable flamethrower. In experienced hands, the portable defoliant projector could evict a group of heavily entrenched Hunters. But words like 'light' and 'portable' were highly subjective, as the bastard weighed almost a 130 pounds. Most troopers, even career ODST's, had extreme trouble hefting it around for extended periods of time. That is where the NA4 came into play. Only problem was walking around with a literal firebomb strapped to your back. Took a special type of crazy to tote those things into battle. A _Hellbringer_ type of crazy.

The postmortem quiet of the morning was disturbed by the harsh _whoosh_ of rushing flames, their glow tickling the polycrete around it. Though soft and inviting, it only set the scout's nerves on edge. Flames and metal didn't tend to mix well. With a quick nod to her squad leader, the two Spartans swiftly made their way up the street and into the remains of a burnt-out establishment. Only a stubborn lock stood in the veterans' way, but the strong frame crumpled like paper when John put his shoulder into it. Keeping low, they observed the patrol from a pair of shattered windows. Peeking over the sill, her HUD picked up seven signatures, three Hellbringers flanked by four other soldiers, all hostile. They seemed to be meandering around the open courtyard with no real objective, torching bodies at random. Their posture was relaxed, but alert. Kelly allowed herself a small smile. _Bored. Perfect._ She could easily take three before they reacted, possibly four.

"Bet I can take out more than you." Kelly goaded, mentally prioritizing her targets.

" _Stay focused, Kelly."_ Chief responded, his voice coming in clear and deep over coms. Kelly rolled her eyes.

"Afraid you'll lose?"

" _No."_ She heard him sigh. " _What are the stakes?"_ A smile graced her face for an instant before it disappeared behind her stony façade just as quickly as it had come. John could never back down from a challenge.

"I win, you take my shift on the _Infinity."_ A reasonable offer. That would give her a whole uninterrupted sixteen or more hours with her girls. "But if you win, I'll take yours."

" _Deal. Conditions?"_ Chief answered after a quick pause.

"First target must be engaged before you open up." Instead of a verbal response, he gave her a nod. Sparing one last glance at the surrounding rooftops and motion tracker, she hoisted herself through the broken window and into the courtyard. Rising to her feet, she broke into a sprint, activating her thrusters for an extra boost. She might have looked like some ethereal creature, all decked in white, tendrils of blue snaking outward from her spine, but she was anything but. She was an angel of death, and these souls had been chosen. Pulling a plasma grenade from her belt, primed it, and threw it at the most distant soldier. She watched it sail through the air before adhering to the soldier's weapon. His cry of alarm as he chucked the assault rifle away drew the patrol's attention, giving her a few precious extra seconds.

Kelly dug her heels into the pavement, she felt a subtle rumble under her feet as the material crumbled and gave way under the immense weight of her armor. Reaching out with her free hand, she caught the nearest soldier's helmet. Letting inertia and gravity do most of the work, she yanked the poor woman off her feet, throwing her harshly to the ground. Kelly quickly brought her boot down on the trooper's neck, crushing her spine and killing her instantly. The rest of the patrol was just starting to figure out what was happening when _Oathsworn_ evicted a man's organs, reducing his chest to a ragged, gore-soaked hole. The Hellbringers brought their weapons to bear and opened up. Like the fiery temperament of a dragon, the defoliants let loose streams of hellfire the seemed to set the very air around them alight. Survival instinct took over, sending her backpedaling as she fired into the oncoming flames. It was kind of funny, after centuries of war and advancements in technology, fire was still one of the most terrifying things on the battlefield. Though war may change, people's innate fears can never truly be suppressed. Plus, Kelly didn't want to boil alive inside her armor.

She could hear Chief open fire from his position with his battle rifle, the bark of the weapon catching the enemy completely by surprise. But she had bigger problems to deal with. The napalm had settled on her armor and began to lap at her shields like a dying man who found an oasis in the desert. Two more contacts dropped from her motion tracker as her shields fizzled under the intense heat. Sweat pooled under her skinsuit as the liquid accelerant gnawed through the last of her energy shielding. Her lips twitched downward, forming a frown for a split second, as her skin began to tingle. Soon, her raw skin would start to show symptoms. Symptoms that she would have to explain to Sandra. Not a conversation she was looking forward to. The blonde would no doubt chew her out for her brash and reckless behavior. As the flames died out and her vision cleared, the veteran could see the last two remaining soldiers slowly advancing on John's position, using the buildings as cover.

"Chief, I need a distraction." If she could get close, Kelly could end this without being barbequed.

" _Copy. Suppressing."_

She watched John roll from cover, coming up in a kneel and bringing his rifle to bear. The bursts were slow, methodical, like the beat of a warrior's heart before battle. Activating her thrusters once more, she counted down the remaining rounds in the magazine. _24…21…18…15…_ Having to alternate targets halved the time he was able to keep the hostile duo pinned and she was cutting it close. She vaulted into the soldiers' cover as the last burst tore polycrete from the wall, landing with a heavy _thud._ Not wanting another napalm bath, she pulled out _Oathsworn_ and pumped a shell into his legs. While too far to do any significant damage, it was enough to yank the man's feet out from under him. On instinct she dove to her left, narrowly avoiding a stream of fire that scorched the earth she had been occupying moments before.

Exiting her dive, her palm landed on something long, thin and solid. Like an Olympian discus, she whipped the shard of polycrete at the Hellbringers visor as hard as she could. while the building material was by no means starship-grade titanium, it wasn't made of wet noodles either. It succeeded…somewhat, partially piercing the golden faceplate and eliciting a shriek of surprise. Rounding on the other flamethrower, Kelly launched at him like a coiled viper, driving a knee into his chest. In one fluid motion, she pulled her combat knife from its sheath and rammed it into his jugular, effectively pinning him to the wall as he choked on his own blood. Crimson tails escaped from the safety of the soldier's neck, tracing the weapon as it flowed across its curves, as if etching every detail of it into memory. Kelly was lost in the ebb and flow of crimson tides for just a second, a moment. But sometimes, that was all it took.

Unexpectedly, she was driven from her observances as an intense heat washed over her. Cursing herself for her momentary lapse in focus, she wrenched the blade from the corpse as her shields flared angrily. Ignoring her armor's warnings blaring in her ears, she launched herself at the sole remaining soldier. She only hoped that her armor could withstand the heat. If not, Sandra would resuscitate her, if only to kill her with her own bare hands for being so foolish. Like one of her brothers said many years ago: there was no testing ground like the battlefield.

"Burn, you UNSC dog! BURN!" A quiver shook itself through the last word. Clearly, her unorthodox tactics were getting to the man. Letting the flammable fuel wash over her like a warm shower, she pulled her magnum and unloaded into the Hellbringers chest. The last round struck him in the faceplate, staggering him and throwing off his aim. Throwing her empty handgun to the side, Kelly drove her palm into the shard lodged in the soldier's visor. The polycrete met little resistance as it entered his flesh, if his screams were anything to go by. Curling her fingers into a tight fist, she hammered his faceplate as many times as she could. _One._ The cracks expanded outward in chaotic, asymmetrical web, touching all it could. _Two. Three. Four._ The web had expanded to consume the entire polarized, golden plate. On the fifth blow, the entire framework collapsed, forcing shards of exotic composites into the wearer's face. His screams quickly morphed into quiet gurgles as the man choked on his own blood and bone.

The scout slowly stood to her full height, her fist slick with crimson. There were many reasons as to why she did it: to preserve her own life, to protect Sandra, Amber, and all her brothers and sisters, a skewed form of revenge for all those she lost before and during the war with the Covenant, or that she was ordered to do it. But no matter the justification, whatever excuse she used to place her actions in the right, Kelly never felt comfortable with killing her own species. But orders were orders. And she followed her orders, for she was a Spartan. It was her duty. And that pumped through her veins like the blood she spilled.

"Y-you th…think you're in the r-r…right here? Doing go-" A fit of wet, sloppy coughs broke up his words. She watched a drop of blood escaped his mouth, running down his chin. "You are all the same: tyrants." He paused, glaring at her with his one good eye. A challenge to answer, perhaps to justify her actions, perhaps not. Kelly remained silent, alert for any final attack the Front Hellbringer might make. Silence, apparently, was not the answer he was after as what remained of his jaw curled into in pained grimace. "I'll see you in hell, asshole."

The hair on the back of her neck stood on end and she leapt back on instinct. A good thing too, as the frag grenade under him went off, turning his body into a concussive firebomb. The veteran was thrown into one of the crumbling walls as napalm and shrapnel were propelled in all directions. Shaking her head to try to clear some of the dizziness, she found an olive arm outstretched to greet her. She took it and Master Chief pulled her quickly to her feet.

" _Do you always toss aside your weapons when they're empty?"_ He joked over TEAMCOM, handing her the empty magnum. She swiftly reloaded it before clamping it back to her hip.

"Had to improvise."

He looked over the scorched, bloody devastation, before coming to some conclusion. Giving her a nod of approval, he began moving towards the waypoint that marked rally point Bravo, the scout close behind. " _I hope your negotiation skills are as good as your ability to improvise."_ With that cryptic remark, he fell silent.

 _Negotiation skills? What is John on about? Is there a change in the mission? No, if there was, he would have told me._ She ran through dozens of possibilities, each one seeming less plausible than the last. Frustrated, she rolled her shoulders, as she often did. Somehow, it helped with her thought process and releasing pent up tension. Or, at least, that was the plan. Pain swept across her back like wildfire as her burned, inflamed skin rubbed up against the titanium plating. She winced guiltily. _Seems like the shielding didn't hold up well enough._ Burying the rising fear of facing her lover's wrath, she glanced down at her armor. Her once pristine white armor now bore numerous scorch marks, thick and black. Kelly's Mjolnir armor was the personification of an ONI after-action report. That was not even mentioning the numerous fresh scars from shrapnel or the partially melted plates, some of which would have to be replaced eventually. Her back was probably worse. _Yep, I'm going to get it big time._

"Shit." Her helmet speakers threw her words out for all to hear.

John's amused snort was _not_ helpful.

 **Rally Point Bravo Sector 60, Humanity Mall, Tribute**

 **1130 hours**

Sandra sighed under her breath, making a minute adjustment to the SR-99 in her hands before easing back behind the scope. A large courtyard sprawled out almost twelve stories below, its crisscrossing footpaths acted like a prison, sectioning off each patch of pristine lawn to its own little square cell. It could have been a symbol of humanity's belief that they superior to Mother Nature. Or, it was simply the most practical method. Sandra didn't care enough to figure out which. Through her scope the Spartan observed another Pelican swoop in low, its nozzles spitting out a constant flow of cyan flame. It gently nestled itself between two warthogs, its jet wash hardly jostling the reconnaissance vehicles. When the gangplank touched dirt a surge of green flowed out of the bird like water from a faucet. But it wasn't just troopers; they carried with them extra ammunition, food, fuel and enough rations to last for a week.

" _Status, Blue 5."_ Came Fred's confident voice.

"All clear here. Any updates on Linda or the Chief?"

" _Chief's trying to get our marching orders. Linda is doing all she can to slow the Front down._ Sandra frowned behind her visor. Not exactly the answer she was looking for, but it would have to do. She would have asked about Kelly but Fred would have told her if there was anything wrong. But that didn't mean she couldn't bug the guy a bit.

"Having fun down there, lieutenant? _"_

" _The time of my life_." He responded dryly _._ As TEAMCOM fell silent she idlily glanced about the room, not really focusing on any one thing. She _should_ be acting as a lookout, but there were at least a dozen other snipers, most of them Spartans. A few minutes of looking around wouldn't kill her. The walls were a dull grey, devoid of any real color. It was almost as if whoever designed this office space intentionally made it as depressing as possible. Just looking at the walls for too long gave her the urge to eject herself out an airlock. Most of the furniture was either was coupled together for makeshift sniper nests or strewn about the large room. The remainder was shoved into a corner that looked more unsteady than a pyramid of squabbling grunts.

"It helps if you look _out_ the window." Came a sudden voice from the doorway, startling her. Sandra could count her lucky stars her finger wasn't on the trigger.

"Fucking Christ, Kelly! Don't you ever knock?!"

"And miss the opportunity to get the drop on you? I think not." The veteran was so quiet, Sandra didn't even realize the woman had moved until she felt a hand land gently on her shoulder. "Status?" She knew that Kelly was really asking if she was alright, but their positions forced them to keep such language sequestered.

"Fine."

"You know what fine stand for, right?" _There she goes, throwing my words right back in my face_ , Sandra thought.

"Very funny." Sandra fired back huffily. They descended into a comfortable silence, with her behind the scope and Kelly as her impromptu spotter. Though both knew the younger Spartan didn't need a spotter, the company was appreciated. The minutes slowly ticked by with only the hustle and bustle of supplies, troops and munitions being unloaded to fill the quiet. It was during one of these moments that Sandra noticed something odd about Kelly: her armor was black. At first she didn't think anything of it, but upon closer inspection an icy shiver ran down her spine. It was much worse than dirt or soot. "Kelly," she started warningly. "What happened?"

The brunette's shoulders tensed, turning her head towards the wall. After a few seconds she gave voice to her thoughts. "Hellbringers. Close quarters engagement." Guilty undertones seeped through the cracks, eroding her neutral façade. Sandra glared daggers at the back of her head. _How could she be so stupid?!_

"Just what are you trying to prove?! You don't have to get yourself kil-" Kelly rounded on her in an instant, jabbing a finger at her faceplate.

"I'm not trying to prove _anything_. This is war, Sandra. We don't always get to choose how our battles are fought."

Sandra smacked the finger out of her face, continuing her tirade. "I get that, I do. But if you were barbequed, I would be crushed!" A calming breath. "It's not just the UNSC you're fighting for anymore, Kelly. You're also fighting for Amber. For _me_." To prove her point, she slugged her love in her injured shoulder. The wince was extremely noticeable.

"I'm sorry."

"I'll think on your apology. Go see what the medic can do for your injuries." The older veteran's shoulders dipped minutely in defeat, but didn't immediately leave. Annoyed, Sandra returned her attention to the neglected sniper. Kelly was a big girl and could handle herself.

"Before I go, may I tell you a story?" Her blonde love gave no response. Her lips quirked downward, a frown marring her features for but a moment. Well, she didn't boot her ass out so she took it as a sign to continue. "It's about Amber. More precisely, about the woman who inspired it."

Her love was quiet, scanning the surrounding area with the rifle. Eventually though, she responded. "Fine. But _only_ because it sounds interesting. I'm still mad at you." Sandra tried to sound angry, but her words carried no venom, only curiosity. Kelly rolled her eyes behind her helmet. The words ' _of course_ ' sat at the tip of her tongue, ready to tease her youngest teammate. But, in a split-second decision she bit them back. Her grave was already deep enough as is. No need to pour in some gas and give the blonde a match.

"This was many years ago, late 2530's I believe. The war…what year were you born? You never mentioned it." Sandra's head popped up from behind the scope and turned to face her.

"I didn't?" The tilt of her head was cute, even with all the armor on. With a shrug, she gave her answer. "2532."

 _So, she was just a baby. Damn, I am old._ "It was my first command. Recon op behind enemy lines. I kept my focus, remained on mission. But Amber…Amber was different than the other soldiers. Though intimidated, she made an effort to try to connect. She was the first one outside the SPARTAN program to do so. Naturally, I shut down her attempts. But she- don't give me that look."

"What look?" The innocent comment did nothing to help her case. Kelly rolled her eyes, continuing her story. She knew Sandra's tells, even hidden behind 1000 pounds of titanium.

"That disapproving look. I can see it in your body language. It was a different time. I was not the Spartan I am today. You wouldn't have liked me back then."

"Maybe not…" The uptick in her voice was another tell for her blond love. One that meant a cheeky, most likely risqué, comment was coming. "But I still would have tried to sleep with you." The blush hit her like a brute with a gravity hammer, rendering her speechless for a few seconds. Kelly should have been used to these comments by now, they should have no effect on her. Why did they still blow her out of the water? Truly, her lover was in a league of her own when it came to pillow talk.

" _Moving on_." She growled out, giving the purple Spartan a glare while trying her best to flush the rosy color from her cheeks. "She was strong-willed, inquisitive, intelligent, could kick some serious ass and was stubborn as hell… these traits remind you of anyone, hmm?" Sandra flipped her off, drawing a snort from the veteran. "She had this idea of making peace with the Covenant, that we could coexist. That not all of them wanted to exterminate humanity. She told me all that the night before our op. I was tempted to tell her CO about her remarks, but I let it slide. The next day a grunt put enough needles into her back to send her back in a shoebox. She was the first one to die under my command, but she wasn't the last. In the end, I completed the op on my own. Perhaps if I had reported it like I should have, she'd still be alive today…" Kelly trailed off as the memories overtook her. The sight of a shallow cave chilled her bones, the smell of oil clogged her nostrils, the weapon in her hands felt like it weighed more than a Hunter. She looked down when a warm hand rested on her leg. Interlocking their fingers, she followed the armored plates up to the darkened gold visor that stared back at her.

"Maybe it would have made a difference, maybe not. Who knows what the future holds? All we can do is take things one step at a time, one day at a time. Anything more and we'll just end up tripping over our own feet. What matters is that she gave you something to think about, a new perspective. You can't view the world through a sniper scope, as much as Linda might deny it." She lightly shook the rifle for emphasis, Sandra's words drawing a chuckle out of both of them. "Sometimes you have to lift your head up to take in the world around you. And you wouldn't have known it then, but she was right. The alliance with the Sangheili is proof of that fact. My armor proves that our cultures can work together towards a common goal. Our daughter…she is undeniable proof that we can not only coexist, but flourish. I didn't know her, but I think she would be proud of what Humanity has become, what _you've_ become."

Kelly dropped the opacity on her visor so Sandra could look into her ocean blue sapphires. Her love followed suit, much to her surprise. "Thank you." She quietly choked out, swallowing the lump that had slowly started to form in her throat. Sandra squeezed her hand and flashed a dazzling smile. It was at that moment, looking into those deep emerald forests that a question came to mind. "Should we…should we tell her when she's old enough?"

"If she wants to hear it, certainly." Sandra responded, her smile growing brighter, if that was even possible. "Just maybe leave out the needler part." Kelly gave a sharp nod, as if accepting an order. Who was she kidding? She would interpret the blonde's requests as orders until the day she died. And she wasn't ashamed to admit it. Just…not out loud. She would _never_ hear the end of it then. As the moment passed, Sandra pointed a finger at the door. Kelly knew what Sandra wanted but her pride wouldn't let it go that easily.

"What?"

"That coy look might fool Fred or Chief, but not me. Medic. Go." Kelly opened her mouth to insist she was fine, but Sandra must have mind reading powers, because she didn't let the veteran get a word in edgewise. "Either you walk there with your own two feet or I carry you. Make your choice." Her pride might take a trip to a med bay, but being carried by Sandra would shatter it. The lesser of the two evils it was. But she wouldn't forget this. With a few quick hand gestures, Kelly left the tower, her heavy footsteps announcing her presence to every trooper she passed. Some saluted while others gave her a nod of respect. Many stared in awe or ignored her completely, having either never seen or seen too much of the Spartans. But their reactions went almost entirely unnoticed, as the veteran's mind was a thousand light years away. She _wanted_ Sandra to carry her, to be cradled in her love's arms, Spartan mentality be damned. That, however, was for another time. Her shoulder was really starting to bother her and someone _very_ high up had given her an order to see the doctor. Begrudgingly, she exited the towering skyscraper, headed for the nearest triage center. The battle for Tribute was far from over.

 **Come Back Next Time!**

Sorry it took me so long for this update. Life threw many curveballs at me these past few months. It took me a while to get back into the swing of things but I hope you all enjoyed this most recent chapter of the Rabbit and the Wolfe! If all goes well, chapter 15 won't be so long of a wait. Maybe. Leave a review, telling me what you thought! And don't forget to favorite and follow so you can get updates when I post a new chapter! Till next time, peace out!


	15. One Shot One Kill

**The Rabbit and the Wolfe**

Sorry it took me so dang long. I had a bunch of life stuff that got in the way. Plus, a serious case of writer's block. But I'm back and I brought you some goodies! The next chapter of the Rabbit and the Wolfe is here. Megan takes a front seat in this chapter as she tries to survive in a city under attack, while Linda engages with hostile forces. What will happen? Read to find out! Don't forget to favorite follow and review!

 **15: One Shot. One Kill.**

 **December 24, 2561**

 **Sector 13, Humanity Mall, Tribute**

 **Epsilon Eridani System**

 **2230 hours**

Megan wiped some of the grime from her forehead with the back of her palm, utterly exhausted. Between taking care of the sick and injured or occupying the children with stories, the teacher had taken little time to rest. She had trouble concentrating, her muscles ached fiercely and her eyes had picked up the tendency to drift shut. _A shower sounds marvelous right about now. Heck, I'd even settle for a nap._ A few militia passed by, giving her a silent nod in thanks. Though no one actually admitted it, Megan had eased some of the strain on the soldiers these past few days.

"Here." A voice said beside her, offering a damp cloth. She took it with a tired smile, scrubbing her face as best she could. Even with all these people from different walks of life, there was only one person that had an Australian accent. "You know," He continued. "I think there's still some cold coffee in the mess if you want a cup. Or the sludge the UNSC tries to pass off as coffee…" Megan let out a snort, amused. The Australian really liked his caffeine water. Funnily enough, Chipps Dubbo was the closest thing she had to a friend right now.

"It's not half-bad warmed up." She responded, a smile evident in her voice.

"You Earth folks have a funny idea of what coffee is." Megan rolled her eyes. To him, bad coffee was a cardinal sin. They fell silent, not willing to diverge from the current topic of conversation. Looking about one of the many wards that had been stuffed, almost overflowing, with refugees, the teacher spotted more than her fair share of couples. They cradled one another close, whispering words of comfort in a time of war and uncertainty. The pang of loneliness hit her hard. She hadn't thought of Kevin in a few days and she felt monumentally guilty about it. As a teacher, helping others had always been a key part of her. She was just going about it a different way. She could only hope that he would understand.

"Yeah, I guess…" She muttered, not really paying attention. Chipps turned to her, bemusement clearly written on his face.

"You look like ya' got a lot going on in there." He said after a few moments. "Want to share?" He picked his words carefully, as not to overstep any boundaries. Megan rolled the words over in her head for a while, considering how she wanted to respond. Her tongue urged her to say something but none of the answers tasted right. Because as much as she loved her boyfriend, and rightfully worried about him, she was more worried about Linda. Linda was a soldier. A Spartan. The frontlines were the sniper's home; where she was most at home. But that brought with it its own dangers and complications. With people constantly trying to kill her friend, how could she _not_ worry? Megan felt as if she was being torn between the love for her boyfriend and the safety of one of her best friends. She wasn't going to lie: between her fluctuating emotional state and the battle around her, the stress was starting to take its toll. The entire situation was a mess.

"It's…complicated." She finally said. Dubbo grunted in understanding.

"Dubbo!" A voice boomed from behind making them both jump. If Megan hadn't used the bathroom earlier, she surely would have pissed herself. As if on cue, they both turned to meet the stern, grizzled face of Sergeant Mathers. "Quit your yammering and relieve Klekon! The kid's practically dead on his feet." She said, jamming a thumb behind her for emphasis. His lack of immediately movement annoyed her. "Move it, soldier!" Her voice rumbled through the ward, temporarily silencing all other conversation.

The poor Australian jumped like someone lit his ass on fire, booking it to his post as fast as his legs could carry him. He would rather be on the business end of a rifle then be the brunt of his Sergeant's wrath. At least a bullet would give him a chance of survival.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get him in trouble." Megan said after he rounded the corner, guilt creeping into her tone.

Mathers let out a burst of laughter. "Naw, I was just busting his balls. Nothing to be sorry for."

"Oh." Megan said, unsure of what else to say.

"These prideful morons would never admit it, but you've been a huge help around here." Mathers said, her voice just loud enough to pick out through the noise. Megan guessed the sergeant didn't want people to know she had _any_ sort of soft spot.

"T-thank you." Her surprise was not unwarranted, as she never expected to receive praise from anyone, let alone the stone-faced sergeant. The older woman waved off her thanks like it wasn't necessary. Explosions echoed overhead, the shockwaves rumbling through the hospital's foundation. The battle in Tribute's orbit had obviously gone well for the UNSC, because additional troops and supplies were ferried to the surface every day. But it was a different story on the ground. The Front had dug in hard and were becoming extremely difficult to extricate. While Megan wasn't an expert on military tactics by any means, one piece didn't seem to fit: the Spartans. "Can I ask you a question, ma'am?" The teacher said after unable to form her own answer to the question. Mathers grunted but gave no further response. "Do you know what-"

"All right everyone, listen up!" Mathers shouted, her booming voice carrying itself across the entire room. Megan quickly swallowed the rest of her question and turned her full attention to the militia leader's words. "The Front is on its way." Immediately, murmurs and questions sprung up from the civilians gathered inside the brightly lit ward. Megan was one of those individuals, exchanging worried looks with whoever looked in her direction. "But!" She continued, her gaze level and her voice steady. A drastic difference from the teacher's own worry and fear, which settled in her stomach like a lead brick. "We planned for this. Follow my trooper's commands in a calm, collected manner and we will all get out of here safe and sound."

"Where are we going?" Someone shouted from the back as the civilians began to pack up what little they had brought with them into the hospital.

"It seems the UNSC has heard our prayers. They have set up a camp, of sorts, big enough to accommodate everyone. That's where we're going." Trepidation and excitement buzzed about the atrium in equal measure. The Front seemed unstoppable, but that would certainly change now that the UNSC was here, right? One could only hope.

Mathers, flanked by a handful of her soldiers, led the first big group out into the darkness of the wintery Tribute night. The cold bit into unprotected skin and the crevices of the light clothing that many had brought, not expecting such a drastic drop in temperature. Megan watched from behind a barricade, volunteering to stay behind to help those less mobile. As their forms gradually blended into the darkness around them, the woman was only able to listen as their boots crunched the broken glass that littered the streets around them. As the last footsteps were swallowed by the silence around them, she eased herself down to the floor. Letting out a weary sigh through her nose, Megan finally took a few moments to herself.

"Don't fall asleep on us lady." One of the militia troops joked. She gave the man a soft smile and closed her eyes once more. _Just a few minutes. Then I'll be good to go._

* * *

Megan was torn from her slumber as a muffled explosion shook the walls around her, sending a cascade of paint chips down upon her head. Brushing most of the chips from her hair, she stood up on shaky legs. The pins and needles in her legs made walking uncomfortable but the desire to see the evacuation through spurred her on. Her blood ran cold as an all-too-familiar sound burst from just beyond the door: gunfire. Quickly locking the door, she scampered behind a bed, the only real protection the small room offered. Sequestered in her self-made prison, she could hear the terrified screams as people were wrenched from their hiding spots. The short bursts of gunfire, that heralded someone's demise. But worst of all was the silence, those moments where no distinct sounds could be heard over the accelerated palpitations of her own heart. They were coming for her, she could feel it. Faceless creatures who lived in the dark, spreading terror and tragedy in their wake.

The door, the sole thing holding this enemy back, exploded inward, throwing shards of metal into the walls and sending others skittering across the floor. Megan let out a terrified shriek, drowned out by the ringing in her ears. She could hear voices but they felt muffled, detached, as if there was no one there at all. A bright light was thrown in her face, forcing her to close her eyes and look away so as not to go temporarily blind. One of the group grabbed her wrist and yanked her roughly to her feet.

"Look what I found!" The soldier announced excitedly, smiling as he watched the aquamarine haired woman struggle weakly in his grip.

"Good to know that you can find a single person in a six by six room." One of his comrades piped up, earning a chuckle from a few others.

"Har dee fucking har." He said, unamused. "Let's just go. Don't want to keep the commander waiting." Twisting her arm behind her back, he led her out into the hallway, closely followed by the rest of the patrol. As they made their way into an unfamiliar wing of the hospital, Megan wished she had been blinded by the flashlight. Corpses, both civilian and not, lay strewn in the hallway. Blood flowed from their wounds like crimson streams, permanently staining the once-white floors. Her stomach churned each time she stepped in a pool of gore, the soft _squelch_ doing nothing to ease the rising nausea. Finally, she closed her eyes, choosing to stumble over the dead rather than look them in the eye.

The group eventually entered a reception area. Unlike the last one Megan had been through, which was well-lit and decently comfortable, this one seemed a world away. Glass and rubble covered much of the floor, as if a bomb had gone off. The lights, those that were still functioning, flickered occasionally, casting odd shadows that seemed to warp and shift with each passing second. The air felt cold and heavy, like a graveyard on a dark and foggy night. With each step she was forced to take, Megan felt as if a part of her was dying, under constant siege by all this anger and malcontent. She longed for something to be right again, a ray of sunshine through this seemingly impenetrable darkness.

With a hard slap on the glutes, the Front soldier practically threw her into the throngs of other frightened civilians, laughing as they left. Megan glared daggers and the soldier's retreating back, massaging her aching arm. As the man's mismatched armor disappeared around the corner, Megan melted into the crowd, muttering obscenities under her breath.

"M-Megan?!" A voice choked out, disbelief clearly written in their tone. Her heart leapt into her throat as she turned around. _Ba-dump._ She couldn't believe her eyes. Were they playing tricks on her? _Ba-dump._ His skin held a dark vibrancy like she never noticed before. His hazel eyes seemed to hold a touch of honey. _Ba-dump._ The man she thought she had lost…or worse. Crossing the room before her brain could register what was happening, Megan collapsed into his embrace, tears rolling unabated down her cheeks. Like a fire reaching a field of dry brush, unquenchable passion ignited within her and she crashed her lips against his. Megan poured everything she had into that one kiss, her fears and concerns, hoping that he would understand.

"I-I thought I'd l-l-lost y-you." She choked out between sobs. Part of her hated that she sounded like a blubbering seal, but she pushed it away. She sighed contently as he ran a hand through her hair, tucking a few loose locks behind her ear. He let her quietly cry on his shoulder for a few minutes, his shirt soaking up her emotions that made the transition to the physical plane. He led her over to a collapsed concrete pillar, easing her down on its cool surface.

"When I woke up and you weren't there, I thought you may have…well, never mind." He spoke, his voice cracking as his emotions threatened to overwhelm him. He wrapped her in his arms, holding her close.

"I'll fill you in…later. All I want to do is fall asleep in your arms." He hummed his assent, just glad that she was back in his arms, safe. Megan fell into an exhausted sleep in minutes, the day's events finally catching up to her.

 **Sector 13, Humanity Mall, Tribute**

 **2345 hours**

Linda never liked rain on the battlefield. It only served to complicate variables that were already constantly shifting. Crouched in a narrow archway, she watched a trio of soldiers drink and laugh, oblivious to the sniper's presence. She brought her battle rifle to bear, flicking the safety off and zeroing in on her first target. The first burst caught a burly soldier in the throat mid-laugh, splitting it open like a Sangheili jaw. He crumpled to the ground, wet, sloppy gurgles spewing from the remains of his vocal cords. The second muzzle flash caught the next soldier in the base of the neck, the lead projectiles severing his spine and killing him instantly. The final trooper dropped his beer, horrified that his two companions dropping dead before his eyes. The last thing he saw was a puff of gold before Linda's final burst tore through his brain, reducing it to a pile of grey mush. Stepping from the darkness, the sniper encountered no further resistance. She had not gone a hundred feet from her hiding spot when her radio burst to life.

" _This is Sergeant Mathers, Tribute Militia, does anyone read? I repeat, does anyone copy?"_

"This is Sierra-058, UNSC. How can I assist?" The woman's name sounded familiar, but for the life of her she couldn't place it.

" _I don't recognize that callsign. What branch are you?"_ Linda quickly snuffed out the momentary bristle of frustration. Allowing her emotions to cloud her judgement could endanger this op.

" _Spartan, ma'am."_ While not technically true, she didn't have time to talk semantics.

" _Spartan, we had to evacuate a hospital we were using as a temporary headquarters. The Front was closing in and we couldn't risk an engagement with so many civilians. Unfortunately, not all of them made it out. According to our latest intel, the rebels are using it as a staging area or a depot of some sort, they weren't entirely clear."_ She could hear the aggravation in the sergeant's voice. Linda could relate. She disliked incomplete intel and _hated_ being kept in the dark. " _What was clear, however, was that they have civilian hostages."_ The redhead cursed under her breath. Hostages tended to muddy the waters. A lot _._

"Understood. Give me a location."

" _It's in sector-"_

"Ma'am," Linda cut in. "With all due respect, I just need a location, not a play-by-play." She caught the other woman's insult but it wasn't worth mentioning. Her HUD indicated she had an incoming data burst. The blue waypoint hovered a half klick to her northeast. Even without the armor's help, Linda spotted a few nearby skyscrapers that could provide an excellent vantage.

"Location received. I'll get it done."

" _There's only one of you?!"_ Mathers responded, astonished. It was clear that the militia leader was expecting a team, not a lone spartan. But she didn't know Linda. The redhead did her best work when there was no one around to watch.

"Only need one." She cut the com channel before Mathers could say anything else. Keeping it open would be a waste. Silence was her companion. She thrived in it. Breaking into a light jog, the lone sniper headed for her destination with only the steady pulse of her vitals serving as her companion.

* * *

The wind swirled around her tan Mjolnir armor, scooping up dust and ash from the recent aerial battles and tossing it to the heavens in a flurry. Upon first look, Linda almost mistook it for a swarm of mosquitoes, it was that thick. Even with the full moon and her enhanced vision, the redhead still needed her armor's systems to highlight the bodies behind the ash and the smoke. As each fatality ticked off, she felt a rare spike of anger surge through her body, coiling around her heart like a python, yearning to crush the tiny muscle within its grasp. _What a waste,_ she thought, her fingers squeezing the grip till her knuckles turned white. Casting her eyes upward, she frowned. The only way to get the vantage point she was after was to keep climbing upward. Unfortunately, an airstrike had reduced most of the remaining floors to little more than half-melted girders and chunks of polycrete not much wider than her shoulders. She would have to be ascend carefully, as one wrong step could send her plummeting a hundred or more meters to the pavement below. While her thrusters would save her life, the civilians might not have that kind of time. Nodding to herself, she clamped _Nornfang_ to her back and rolled her shoulders a few times to loosen the muscles.

Bending her knees, Linda eyed the first beam. In a feat of astounding athletic ability, the sniper easily leapt over a meter, landing squarely on the strut. Bad idea. The metal screeched in protest at the sudden weight of a full suit of Mjolnir armor. Like a bullet from a rifle, Linda leapt to another handhold, clamping down on the chunk of polycrete as the girder gave way and fell into the darkness below. Stamping down the upsurge of fear, the Spartan focused in on her next landing zone. Throwing her legs back and forth, she slowly built momentum. Releasing her hold, she flew through the air, once again landing flawlessly. Meter by meter, Linda made her way up the exposed guts of the skyscraper, using her thrusters when a little extra distance was needed. With any luck anyone who looked this way would attribute the pulses of her jets to a lingering fire or sparking electronics, not a UNSC super soldier.

Hauling herself onto the slab of polycrete, her moment of elation disappeared like a drop of water on a hot stove. From her position below, she couldn't know how exposed she would be. According to her intelligence, the sun rose in the East, which would put it…directly in her face. She would not have the shadows to hide in. Beyond a few loose pieces of stone, there was nothing in the way of cover. The redhead would be a sitting duck for enemy snipers. Overall, it was not ideal. But she'd worked with less before. Kicking a few of the larger chunks off the makeshift platform, she got to work. Setting her precious rifle to the side, she thumbed open a satchel attached to one of her armor's hardpoints, pulling out a trio of bulky cylindrical stakes. Descending from a centuries old tradition of climbing nature's most intimidating structures, these dual-purpose instruments served to anchor platforms together. She placed one at each corner and keyed in their activation. Using a durable pneumatic system, the spikes were simultaneously driven into the stone with a small _thunk_ and the high tensile cables were launched into the ceiling above. As long as the entire building didn't come down on her, the cables would hold her aloft, even in the event the supports below gave way. _All set._ Easing herself into a prone position, Linda pulled _Nornfang_ gently into her grasp and brought the hospital into her sights.

Its white coat stood out, almost garishly so, amongst the smoking ruins and charred stone of its neighbors. The neon symbols that ordained its surface flickered intermittently, like the hope of the city it represented. Once, it was a place of majestic buildings and lush, flowing gardens. As survivors of the war that nearly claimed their entire species began to restore what had been lost. To see it survive almost guaranteed extinction, for it to collapse because of treachery was just…wrong. The fate of the city hung in the balance. But the Spartans were not alone in this fight. Good men and women were giving their lives to ensure the Front did not establish a foothold on this planet. Linda could only do her part. After all, the woman could work miracles with just one HEAP round. Who knew the untold chaos she could wreak with a few dozen?

 **December 25, 2561**

 **UNSC** _ **Infinity,**_ **Low Orbit over Tribute**

 _ **C-**_ **deck, Bridge**

 **0135 hours**

"I'm going on record, Tom. This has got to be one of the _worst_ ideas you've had to date." Palmer said, voicing her concerns over this new plan the Captain of the _Infinity_ had just concocted.

Lasky massaged his temples gently, doing his absolute best not to let the pounding migraine get to him. He had to be strong for his crew after all. After his shift, however, he was going to take some pills to dull the pain and sleep like a stone. "I understand your concerns, Sarah,"

"And ignoring them." Palmer interjected sourly.

"But I still think this is the best course of action. There were only a handful that didn't go for my service weapon as soon as I stepped into the room." Lasky continued in spite of his Commanders reservations. Palmer shifted uneasily in her armor, her trigger finger itching for her pistol. Why was it that most of Tom's plans made her irritable or uncomfortable?

"It's not the loud ones you need to worry about." Palmer added.

"Hence the precautions." He looked up at her, their chocolate eyes locking in a silent battle of wills. Eventually, Sarah looked away, under the guise of examining one of the many displays as it relayed damage assessment data. Lasky let himself a brief smirk in satisfaction before continuing. "Even with most of Blue Team leading the charge, the UNSC needs more boots on the ground if we're going to win this thing. Preferably, boots we can trust. That is something in short supply right now. I could count the people I trust in the brig right now on one hand. We are going forward with my plan."

Palmer turned to face him, a brow raised in amusement. "I said it was a stupid idea. I didn't say I wouldn't back you up." Now it was Lasky's turn to look away, grumbling under his breath. A coy smirk was clearly plastered on the Spartan Commander's face when he turned back to her. _Maybe a dinner date would be acceptable. After he gets some rest._

"Good. Because you're the one asking." Her smirk did an instant one-eighty, morphing into a deep frown. _Belay that. Next time I see him, I am going to put a bullet in his brain, screw the consequences._ Sarah stomped off the bridge, her angry footsteps refusing to fade until long after she was gone.

* * *

The lift ride down to the brig was more than a little unpleasant. The anger and frustration rolled off her in waves, keeping her shoulders tense and her muscles tight. The other crew members seemed to have a sixth sense about them as they steered clear of the volatile Commander, something Sarah was glad for. She was already angry with the Captain and didn't want to smear the walls with anyone if she could avoid it.

"Ma'am, I'm afraid I can't let you in with those." She blinked a few times, pulled from her train of irritable thoughts by the guard's acknowledgement.

"Excuse me?" She meant it as a question, mentally wincing as the man went ramrod straight, his face turning a few shades whiter. He gestured to her combat knife and sidearm, not trusting himself to speak. Resisting the urge to slap herself, she handed the weapons over. It was standard operating procedure to secure all weapons outside the brig in case the visitor was overpowered. Obviously, she would have to talk to the officer in charge about how Tom was able to take his service weapon in. _Later_. After handing over the required items and logging her visit, she was granted admittance.

Titanium cells lined both sides of the corridor, fluorescent lighting and security systems shedding light on every square inch. There were no shadows here, no place to hide. Schooling her features, she began her short walk to her destination. Every cell had a two-way auditory communication feature built into the data pads that were mounted by each door. With the tap of a button, she could communicate with any cell in this pod. The other prisoners could see her, but their conversation would be safe from prying ears.

Sarah stopped at the farthest cell on the left, her footsteps quieting as her armor settled on the deck. Her mood soured further as she gazed upon the figure beyond the door. _Traitor,_ she thought, a deep frown etching itself upon her face. Channeling some of that toxic emotion, she banged a fist against the door, the impact loud enough to startle the occupant inside. Ignoring the proper procedure, the Commander tapped in the code for the door, waiting impatiently for the locks to disengage. Finally, the heavy bolts sliding seamlessly over well-lubricated housings before settling into place with a weighty _kur-chunk._ Humanity could travel between star systems in weeks, possibly days, but ship brigs still used deadbolts. Funny how the more things change, the more they stay the same. Sarah tossed aside the thought as the door bisected before her with a soft _hiss._ Not waiting for any confirmation or permission, she stepped inside.

Like all the other cells on this ship, they were sparsely furnished, only containing a cot, toilet, and sink. All of these were bolted and welded to the floor with classified techniques. Nobody wants a Spartan swinging a metal chair at someone's head like a club. The UNSC had a mountain of paperwork already, so adding hundreds of negligent death claims didn't seem like the smartest idea. Sarah took all this in an instant before letting her icy glare settle on the lone occupant.

"If it was up to me, I'd throw you out the nearest airlock." The Commander said coolly. This person had tried to kill her fellow crew members, her _family_. There was no place for niceties here. The woman sat up straight on the cot, tucking a few locks of auburn hair behind her ear. With half her head shaved and sharp green eyes, the ODST surely lived up to her name.

"If you aren't here to space me, then why _are_ you here?" Green asked, raising a copper brow in confusion.

" _Unfortunately_ ," Palmer began through clenched teeth. "The Captain believes that you are one of a select few we can trust, and I use that term loosely, to assist the UNSC in securing our foothold on the ground."

"May I ask where, ma'am?" Sarah's fingers twitched, itching to reach out and strangle the woman before her. Every word this ODST- _no, traitor-_ spoke was just plunging the knife in deeper, twisting all the while. She was seriously considering doing just that.

"Tribute." The Commander said finally. "Your friends in the United Rebel Front have turned an entire city into a free fire zone. Casualties are mounting and civilians are being caught in the crossfire, including children." While those last few words might have sounded cold and callous, Sarah had garnered enough information from Sandra when they brought the woman in. Digging at the ODST's maternal instincts was a cheap shot, but Palmer felt it was the quickest way to get the ball rolling.

Tamara felt her insides roll, churning the contents of her stomach. Images of the saurian girl flowed unbidden into her mind. For all of her physical differences, she was still an innocent young child just exploring the world, albeit under the watchful eyes of her Spartan parents. However, fate had not been kind to the little Sangheili. She had already been exposed to traumatic experiences that often left veterans with nightmares. She couldn't imagine how it could affect someone so young. _But not all of them have augmented parents to protect them from the horrors of this galaxy. Parents should never have to bury their children, it's just not right. For so many innocent lives to be extinguished, snuffed out before they could truly enjoy life…unforgivable!_

She felt bile rise in her throat as she came to a terrifying conclusion. _Oh, god I helped them do this! Not directly, but every moment I went against the UNSC, the URF tore another family apart! How many wives and husbands did I widow? How many children will grow up without a mother or father? Communities set ablaze? Lives ruined? I may have destroyed more in a few days than I helped protect in a decade. What have I done?..._ Something inside her shifted. Here she was, floating in a void, unsure whether the tether to either faction was real or just a figment of her imagination. _I may not be Front material, and I'm sure as hell no longer considered UNSC, but I'm not going to let someone twist their misguided plight for independence into genocide!_

Looking up, she met the Spartan's glare with one of her own. _Those bastards are going to pay._ "Where do you need me?" Palmer could admire the conviction in the woman's eyes, despite still wanting to toss her out the nearest airlock. Digging into the hard case on her thigh, Palmer revealed the handcuffs to the ODST. Tamara let a huff of air out her nose, miffed at why the Commander was implying. The Spartan just raised a brow in question, shaking the cuffs for emphasis. Grumbling something under her breath, Tamara stood up and stuck out her arms. Moving quickly, Palmer encased her wrists in the linked titanium. Since these things were rated for unarmored Spartans, Sarah had little doubt that the redhead would be able to escape. But one could never be too sure.

"Move." Palmer ordered, giving the other woman a light but firm push. The two of them made their way back from whence they came, pausing outside only long enough for the Commander to recollect her gear. Each step Tamara took away from that cell was a step towards freedom, towards redemption. The heavy footsteps of the soldier behind her sounded different, not distorted or warbled to a noticeable degree, but the echoes definitely sounded _off._ Her feet quickly found the reason why: grenades had detonated in the hallways, warping and twisting the once pristine decks. The lift down was silent, save for the steady hum of _Infinity's_ engines. Perhaps Death was growing lax in his machinations. Or, it was simply due to the fact that the UNSC have some damn fine engineers. Whatever the case, Tamara wasn't about to throw away this chance Captain Lasky was giving her.

The lift slowed to a stop, soundlessly opening its doors to allow its passengers to disembark. As she led the way off the elevator, Tamara could feel every pair of eyes fall upon her, their once vibrant eyes now filled with only distrust and loathing. She had nothing to say, the shackles proved her crimes as clearly as if she still held the smoking rifle herself. Besides, nothing she could say would convince them otherwise. They had made up their minds and Tamara couldn't blame them for it. Nausea swept through her, coating her skin in sweat and churning the contents of her stomach like a thick stew. Tears prickled the edges of her vision, but she refused to let them fall, holding her head up and her gaze straight ahead. Mercifully, the farther they traveled the fewer people the ran in to. It was a good thing too, as only a single Huragok floated past when she lost her lunch a few minutes later.

"Wow." Tamara began in between heaves. "I am either a traitor with the biggest heart or the smallest stomach." She burst out laughing then, her manic guffaws unsettling her Spartan escort. Palmer took a step back, her nose crinkled in disgust, a scowl carved on her face. The laughter died off almost as quickly as it had come, leaving the ODST drained. Leaning forward, Tamara rested her forehead against the cold titanium, auburn locks shielding her pathetic visage from whatever embarrassment possible. "And I don't know which is worse." She finished in a whisper. Thankfully, Palmer stayed quiet, only wrapping a gauntlet around her arm and gently leading her onward.

"Ms. Tammy! Ms. Tammy!" The ODST winced but did not turn around, refusing to face the coming voice. She had faced all sorts of demons on the battlefield, all equally terrifying. But if there was one thing she never learned in drop school, or anywhere else for that matter, was how to deal with angels. Particularly the young, adorable variety. Her heart squeezed painfully as she put one foot in front of the other, doing her best to push the heavy pattering of footsteps out of her mind. _Ignore her, soldier. Just focus on your mission._ The hangar sign shone like a lighthouse, guiding in a lost ship on a foggy night, despite the worn paint and bullet-riddled wall. Willing her legs to move faster, Tamara broke into a brisk walk, eager to start filling in the impossibly deep hole she had dug herself.

She almost made it. Was _this_ close to getting her shovel, no strings attached. With a startled squeal from Amber, all that went out the window. The dull _thud_ of the young Sangheili hitting the deck hit her like a Gravity Hammer, stopping the woman cold. She rushed over to the child, ignoring the handcuffs as they dug painfully into her wrists. Sandra's warning rang clearly in her mind and she preferred to keep her limbs where they were. Eventually, leathery, grey claws smacked her fussing hands away, golden eyes meeting hers.

"Sorry. I twipped." Amber spoke, embarrassed, scratching the back of her neck. Tamara guessed it was a human trait she picked up from her parents. Which one, however, was anyone's guess.

"Happens to the best of us." She soothed, offering a small smile in support. "Are you alright?"

"Uh huh!" She retorted, nodding rapidly. "But my robe is too big…" She mumbled quietly, picking at the cuff of her sleeve. The ornate robe was ill-fitting, easily meant for someone twice her size. But being on a warship during deployment had its drawbacks: namely, resupplying nonessentials.

"I'm sure your parents will get you something that fits you properly when they can." She replied somewhat unsure. She regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth as the young Sangheili, looked up at her, golden eyes blinking inquisitively.

"Have you seen Mommy and Mother?" She asked excitedly, looking up and down the hall, expecting them to appear any second. Tamara cleared her throat awkwardly, looking anywhere but at the childling.

"No, but I'm sure they'll be back before you know it." The solidarity of her tone was soured by the churning of her stomach and chiding conscious. _Great, now you're lying to children. Some moral compass you have, huh?_ "Besides," She pressed on, eager to switch topics. "Isn't someone supposed to be watching you?"

"Hmph!" The little saurian huffed, leveling the fiercest pout she could manage. Tamara had to admit: even with the scaly skin and hinged mandibles, it was pretty cute. Forcing down a smile, she addressed the stubborn youngling.

"Amber." She warned. To her frustration, Amber ignored her, crossing her arms in a further act of defiance. Palmer cleared her throat, drawing her attention away from those golden eyes for the first time. Honestly, Tamara forgot the Spartan was even there. Standing up, she made to rejoin the Commander, assured the young girl could make her way back on her own.

"Did you do something bad?" Amber asked, nodding at the handcuffs around her wrists. Tamara looked between the two, unsure how to respond. In truth, the question caught her completely off guard "Mommy said they only put those bracelets on people who do bad things."

"Yes, yes I did." She responded after gathering her thoughts for a few moments. "I did some very bad things."

"Then do good things instead!" Amber retorted happily, her mandibles pulled into a Sangheili version of a Human smile. "Mother taught me that if you do bad things, you need to do good things to make up for it!"

"It isn't that simple. I di-"

"Sure it is!" Amber interrupted hotly, stomping a hoof for emphasis. Tamara swatted away the urge to shake her head at this girl's naivety. _Though it may carry some merit on principle, she lacks understanding of the complicated, convoluted ways the universe actually functions. Ignorance really is bliss._

Offering a soft smile, she patted the young girl on the head, silently admiring how smooth her leathery skin was. "Go back to whomever you slipped away from. This ship is a safer place than most, but you don't want to give your parents another thing to worry about, do you?" Golden eyes looked away guiltily. Amber gave her legs a solid squeeze before dashing back the way she came. "Walk!" Tamara called after her, a shiver crawling up her spine at the thought of another fall. Mercifully, the young saurian slowed her pace, saving the ODST's heart from any more abnormal palpitations.

The door to the hangar opened with a soft _hiss_ , allowing the duo admittance. They marched towards one of the few remaining Pelicans, each booming step of the Commander's armored boots rumbled through her bones like a drum signaling a sacrifice. One where she was the offering. Hiding her shiver under the guise of loosening her muscles, they approached a squad of ODST's swarming over the squat, olive transport.

"Listen up!" Palmer barked from behind her, gathering the troopers' attention. From the looks on some of their faces, they were _not_ happy to see her in the slightest. Tamara could only hope that their weapons were unloaded. Or at least Palmer didn't hate her enough to stand idly by as they riddled her with bullets. "I assume you have all been briefed." The troopers muttered under their breath, a few electing to glare daggers instead. _If looks could kill…_ "I won't mince words. She _will_ make it groundside. Understood?"

"And what if something… unfortunate were to happen to her on our ride down? Say, for instance, she… fell out of the bird?" One of the troopers sitting on the wing spoke up. Murmurs of agreement broke out, Tamara suddenly felt herself doubting her own safety in Lasky's plan.

"Keep in mind that I will be watching your cams _very_ closely. And if anything… unfortunate, as you say, were to happen to her, I would shove my boot so far up your ass you'd be tasting titanium till the day you die. Am I understood, Marines?!" While not necessarily reassuring, Tamara cracked a sly smile as a few of the ODSTs turned a several shades paler. Satisfied, the Spartan commander spun on her heel and marched out of the hangar.

"Chambers! Duthers! Escort our 'friend' to her seat. She _blinks_ wrong and you take her out, I don't care what the Commander says!" Their CO, an imposing, goliath of a man ordered, practically spitting her name. With his helmet on and visor polarized, Tamara couldn't see his face, but she doubted that she would still be breathing come the new year. A soldier stepped to either side of her, grabbing her forearms in an unyielding grip, practically dragging her into the waiting dropship. They shoved her harshly into her seat, not caring when her head banged against the metal of the troop compartment. She never saw the blow coming. The savage right cross landed squarely between her eye socket and her nose, sending rapid pulses of pain to her brain. Spots dotted her vision as blood began to drip steadily into her lap.

"She looked like she was going for my pistol, didn't she?" He nudged his squad mate, his smug, satisfied tone ringing angrily between her rattled ears. The other soldier nodded, his silent agreement irking her even further. She could feel their eyes boring into her like drills as she leaned her head back, closing her eyes. They hoped she would attack: they _wanted_ her to. And in a way, she couldn't blame them. She would have done the same if she was in their shoes anyway. Eventually, her guards grew bored and went to fetch their own gear as the rest of the unit began filling the cabin. The gangplank closed smoothly, the automated systems pressurizing the compartment as the last Helljumper strapped in. Gingerly, she touched her eye and winced at the biting pain that stormed her skull. Well, her orbital was definitely bruised, possibly even broken. But she would have to just tough it out; there was no other choice. The roar of the engines filled the Pelican, doing nothing to dull the pain radiating in her skull. Nobody on that boat would bat an eye if she ate a bullet. All she needed to do was avoid dying a painful death. _Easier said than done,_ she thought as the metal handcuffs continued to rub the clamped skin raw. She remained silent as the dropship blasted out of the hangar, banking towards the planet below.

 **Sector 13, Humanity Mall, Tribute**

 **0200 hours**

The sun blazed brilliantly in the cloudless blue sky, basking everything it touched in a soft, warm glow. Megan smiled as she wiggled her toes in the velvety, bleached sand, her aquamarine locks flowing like waves in the ocean breeze. She inhaled deeply, the coastal air filling her lungs and the salt of the ocean tickled her nostrils. There were no ships to blot out the star's ever-present light. No vehicles to drown the waves as they lapped eagerly at the sandy shore, not another soul in sight. In fact, besides the rhythmic ebb and flow of the ocean and her own breathing, there was not another sound to speak of. This place, this paradise was pristine. Untouched, for however long it had existed. _Such exquisite beauty. Nature can indeed create places of unfathomable riches._ A familiar shout came from behind, sending a spike of frustration through her. She tensed, angry that _anyone_ would disturb such a gem. It quickly faded as strong arms wrapped around her waist, lifting her into the air.

"Aagh! Put me down!" She squealed between fits of embarrassed, joyful laughter.

"As you wish, your majesty." Megan landed on the beach with a yelp, her boyfriend's amused smile tugging at the strings of her heart.

"Well? Are you just going to stand there all day like my own personal awning or are you going to join me?" He tapped his chin as if deep in thought.

"I don't know…the view from up here is pretty amazing." And just like that she was drawn into his hazel eyes that held the answers to so many mysteries. The fire to warm her on a cold winter's night. She offered him a wide smile, beckoning him to lie next to her. _Every day I'm with him is a blessing. I feel like I could take on the world! Just the two of us, living life one day at a time. Married, couple of adorable children to call our own…_ She lifted her hand in front of her face, imagining the small metal ring which would one day adorn her finger.

He took his spot next to her, his fingers naturally entwining with hers. "What are you thinking about?" He asked, observing the look of pure content on her face.

"Us." She responded whimsically. "And the future."

"Oh? And what do you see?"

"I see…" The fantasies died on her tongue as a ghastly, nauseating purple smog descended from the heavens, suffocating the pleasant rays of the star above. She could only look on in abject horror as her little paradise was rapidly twisting itself into a complete nightmare. The clouds churned, as if brewing something even more sinister within its amorphous shell. Like the factories of old, it began pumping out black ash, which floated down like a toxic snowfall. Every inhale filled their lungs, blackening them from the inside out. But neither moved, rooted to the spot. _Move, girl! Move!_ Her muscles pleaded for action, directed by the brain's drive to survive. Her lungs cried for clean air. But no matter how desperate she wanted to flee, her body would not comply. Then, things got worse. Much worse.

"Oh my god." He whispered, his eyes transfixed to the sky. Megan clung tightly to his solid frame, nails digging into his skin deep enough to draw blood. Enormous alien starships emerged from the noxious atmosphere, their bulbous design instantly recognizable to them both. Questions raced through her mind with each conclusion more frightening than the last. The Covenant had found her once more. The shore vibrated ferociously as the carriers descended and she had to clench her jaw so she wouldn't bite her own tongue. The temperature, which had been slowly climbing only moments before, suddenly spiked, sending her sweat glands into a frenzy. But a solid column of boiling plasma disintegrated all other thoughts. It was so intense Megan had to turn away and shield her eyes to prevent being blinded. Hot air roared unrelentingly around her, stinging her skin with ash and sand.

Her heart plummeted into her stomach as she lowered her arm. The ventral beam burrowed deep into the sapphire depths, the extreme temperature scarring the earth below. Megan could feel the planet cry out in agony as the plasma slowly glassed its surface, tears escaping from the tear in its waters. It was like conducting brain surgery with a chainsaw. Fear crawled up her spine, prickling every nerve but doing little to stir her muscles into action. The beam dimmed as the output leveled out, allowing Megan to get a good look at the instrument of unfathomable destruction. With a sense of morbid fascination, she watched as the red spire of gas crawled forward, leaving towering plumes of steam in its wake.

It was at this point that Kevin snapped out of his daze, and leapt to his feet. The coldness left by his absence was quickly saturated with blistering heat, leaving her warm once more. _Just like the fires dad used to make in the backyard_ , she thought wistfully. Kevin was pulling her arm, yelling at her to get up, get away. _Get away? Where? There is nowhere to go._ Eventually the tugging stopped, and even over the howling winds and harsh whine of plasma, she heard the sounds of someone beating a quick retreat. Her throat tightened, desperate to block out the air that only seemed to cause her pain. She choked down gasps of gritty air, wincing as it ground against her trachea. _Why would he leave me here, alone? I thought we would face everything together as a team?_ Megan doubled over as her stomach clenched painfully, eager to abuse her already battered body.

" **You are not alone.** " The voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at the same time, projecting strength, confidence and conviction. Its strength breathed life back into her body, rejuvenating her muscles and energizing her bones. Its unwavering confidence was a towering waterfall, filling her soul with courage. And its conviction was like a monument that stood for millennia, refusing to submit to the passing of time, filled her eyes with hope. But she wasn't entirely convinced.

"Please," She whispered through parched lips. "I need him." The beam was closing in and she was running out of time.

" **No, you do not. You are strong.** " Megan whipped her head around, startled at the sudden closeness of the voice. The shadowy, hulking figure stood beside her, completely statuesque, despite the onslaught of intense winds and blistering heat. Time passed, the duo watched silently as the Covenant continued to cut angry swaths through the paradise she had come to enjoy. _But there is a certain beauty in destruction,_ Megan mused, watching the reds and purples arc and swirl around each other.

" **There is.** " Megan elected to remain silent, observing the weapon the figure clutched in its arms. The shadow shifted, as if sensing Megan's intentions, letting the rifle hang loosely in one hand.

"Do you really believe I am strong?" She asked, having to yell over the thrum of the plasma beams turning the beach into glass.

" **Strength can manifest itself in many different ways. Some can move a mountain with their bare hands while others can lead others to enact their will. It isn't stagnant nor is it comprised of only a single facet. Like the tides, it ebbs and fades due to an immeasurable multitude of factors. One can find themselves growing stronger with each passing day or have it fail them when they needed it most.** " The nebulous soldier turned to fully face her and Megan averted her eyes under its intense presence. " **Do not shy away, for your true strength lies within. You are the eye of the storm; calm and collected when chaos encircles you. Many have tried to break you, in both mind and body, to surrender to their whims. They cannot. Your will is an aegis, unfaltering and resolute. Your enemies may bend it, crack it, but can never break it.** " Jagged, crystalline shards jutted out like spires among the polished obsidian surface, glowing bright white in the wake of the Covenant assault. Megan tore her eyes away from the charred surface as the figure rested a heavy hand on her shoulder. Despite the heat the threatened to peel the skin from her bones, it was oddly cool. " **Do not lose faith in your ability to fight.** "

"But I don't even know how to fire a gun." The shadow gave a deep chuckle, shaking its head.

" **Not all fights are won through force.** " In the blink of an eye the soldier was gone, its essence thrown into the glowing sky by the howling winds. Megan would have believed it was a hallucination if not for the patch on her shoulder that remained cool as the rest of her skin began to blister and burn. _Am I really a fighter?_ She mused in the final seconds before the Covenant ventral beam incinerated her body in its quest to turn yet another paradise into a smoldering char pit.

Megan woke with a start, a blood-curdling scream ripping itself from her throat without warning. Kevin, who had been nestled next to her during their rest, reeled away from the sudden noise to land painfully on the polycrete floor. Her breath came in quick, shallow gasps as she looked frantically around the room with wild, unfocused eyes. Sometime during her nightmare she had broken into a cold sweat, combine that with the cool night temperatures and lack of clothing, and you had a recipe for hypothermia. She could feel her muscles contract uncontrollably and her teeth began to chatter. Kevin pulled himself from the floor, resting a hand on her arm. She flinched away when his hands only seemed to chill her body further, ignorant of the dejection that lingered on his face.

Eventually, an older gentleman took pity on the young man's plight and brought him a blanket. Kevin offered him only a small, hesitant smile as payment. He wrapped the thick blanket around her small frame tucking it under her to keep as much heat inside as possible. Spooning her once more, he did his best to ignore her constant shakes and occasional elbow to the ribs. Too bad he couldn't shelter her from the lecherous stares that seemed to follow his aqua haired girlfriend like a beast stalking its prey.

"K-K-K-Kevin? Are y-y-you there, b-baby?" She asked weakly through chattering teeth. Her eyelids felt heavy, it took all her focus just to keep them open. She tugged the blanket closer to her body, desperate for warmth.

"I'm right here and I'm not going anywhere." He said softly, hugging her close, rubbing gentle circles on her back. She leaned further into his embrace, resting her head on his chest. The shadow's words echoed in her head: _Not all fights are won through force_. The heck did that mean? She wasn't a soldier. Guns made her uncomfortable. As a teacher, she had made it her goal to enrich people's lives. How many lives had been lost during the war with the Covenant? Ten billion? A hundred? The mere thought made her stomach do flips. _But that was for survival. This…_ She cast her eyes over the other refugees, huddled together in the corners for warmth. She could see the emotions play across their faces. Sadness. Anger. Fear. She felt it too. But were they supposed to do against soldiers with guns? She didn't want to think about what would happen if they tried. She felt hopeless, completely out of her comfort zone. Her stomach twisted into knots as tears prickled the corners of her eyes. _If I'm so brave, why do I need saving? Maybe I could buy a guardian angel._ She gave a mirthless chuckle that was lost in the cold of the night. High above, hidden in the black of night, Megan's guardian angel readied her holy weapon.

The first brass spear smashed through the relative quiet like a runaway freight train, the sharp crack of the rifle startling the teaching couple. A few of the more inexperienced guards glanced at each other, confused, but didn't move away from their window perch. A fatal mistake. Megan watched as one soldier, no older than nineteen, was thrown from his seat as if he had been hit in the back by a brute. His body slid noiselessly across the floor, a pooling trail of crimson in his wake. One heartbeat. A collective silence descended over the atrium. Two heartbeats. No one dared to breathe, fearing they could be next. Three heartbeats. A scream cut through the winter night, shattering whatever established peace had existed seconds before. People ran in every direction, scrambling behind whatever scrap of cover they could. Three more shots. Three more bodies. Then all hell broke loose.

 **Come Back Next Time!**

Hope you all liked this chapter! Hopefully, it won't take me another three months to get the next one out. But don't hold your breath, you'll probably pass out. If you like it, leave a favorite follow and review! See you next time Halo fans!


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